Road of Carnage
by LadyVisionary
Summary: Outside the safe walls of Hogwarts, Buffy and her friends find themselves involved in the war against Voldemort. No one is safe, not everyone is loyal and there will be losses on both sides... Part 2 in Roads Travelled, sequel to Road of Innocence.
1. Carnage

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

TIMELINE  
Part 2 in _Roads Travelled._ Post the marauders last year at Hogwarts, and during the beginning of the first war (1978-1979).

STORY SUMMARY  
BTVS/HP crossover. With graduation come new responsibilities. Outside the safe walls of Hogwarts, Buffy and co. find themselves involved in a war against Voldemort. No one is safe, not everyone is loyal and there will be losses on both sides. Can love and friendship prevail against the darkness or will it crumble beneath the growing shadows?

CENTRAL PAIRING  
Buffy/Remus

OTHER PAIRINGS  
James/Lily, Sirius/OC, Peter/OC

* * *

_Carnag__e. _

_A messy field with death and bloodshed. I thought I knew what I was getting myself into when I took the Dark Mark. I thought serving the Da__rk Lord was all I wanted, that it would bring respect to my family, which Sirius seemingly had abandoned. But it is becoming more and more apparent that the Dark Lord's promises are empty. He has his own secret agenda, and now, I suppose, I have one too. But Sirius came to my aid when he believed I needed it, despite all the bad blood between us. He showed me what family truly meant. I'm going to honour that._

_- Regulus Black__._

* * *

**1****8 June**

"Are you sure you're okay with living here?" Buffy asked Remus the next day, while unpacking her things. "I know you had difficulty with it before, considering what happened."

"I'm fine," Remus said, smiling tiredly, but genuinely, as he looked around the master bedroom of the Lupin cottage, where they would now live together. When his mother was eventually released from the hospital, she would take his old room, which had already been transformed into a more 'female' setting, and equipped with all the necessities she would need.

They still hadn't decided where the baby would stay, but both he and Buffy knew it couldn't live in his mother's room – unless she miraculously snapped out of the void her mind had become after his father died.

"I couldn't imagine selling this house, even with all the memories," Remus continued softly. "It would seem like a crime. And not all memories are bad. I think I need to stay, to prove to myself the past is in the past. Just because my father died here, doesn't mean all the good times died with him. Life goes on."

"It always does," Buffy agreed, just as softly.

"I'm still surprised you accepted my offer to move in with me," Remus admitted.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "That's just because you're an idiot," she spoke frankly. "I love you, you love me, your furriness isn't an issue for me...and besides," she added with a wink, "where else would I go?"

"Oi!" A voice coming from the living room shouted. "Moony? Buffy? Are you there?"

Remus frowned. "Prongs?" He and Buffy quickly walked to the living room, finding James' head floating in the fireplace. "I thought you and Lily were moving into your new place today? Godric's Hollow, wasn't it?"

"We are," James said. "In fact, we're there now, along with Sirius, Samantha and Peter. Dumbledore showed up, and asked us to gather everyone. Apparently, he wants to speak with us about something."

Buffy clutched Remus hand, suddenly afraid their former Headmaster had found a way to send her back, at last. "Did he say what it was about?" She asked shakily.

"No," James answered, "but I don't think it was anything bad, so don't worry too much."

"Alright, we'll be there in a moment," Remus said, and James threw them a quick grin, before his head disappeared.

* * *

"Ah, Remus, Buffy, glad you could make it," Dumbledore said jovially when Remus and Buffy stepped out of the fireplace in James and Lily's new home in Godric's Hollow. Their living room was covered in boxes and unpacked things. "Now, you might be wondering why I asked to see you, considering we parted ways only yesterday at Hogwarts. The reason I didn't pull you aside then was that it would have brought far too much attention, considering all the guests milling around the grounds."

"Yes, we are quite curious," Lily confessed from her place on a rather dusty couch.

"I'll get straight to the point, then," Dumbledore said. "Have you ever heard of something called 'The Order of the Phoenix?'"

Everyone shook their heads. "Some sort of group?" Buffy guessed tentatively.

"Correct," Dumbledore said. "A secret group consisting of people; everyday people, with various areas of expertise within the Wizarding World, who have dedicated themselves to fighting the Dark Arts, or rather, Voldemort. It was formed just a few years ago, by me, when it became apparent his power was rising. We work mostly behind the scenes, gathering information which we then give the Ministry to help them prevent attacks, or sometimes, we just 'happen' to be at the 'wrong place at the right time' so we can come to the aid of defenceless people and stop them from dying unnecessarily, if we know an attack is going to occur but too late to warn anyone. I suppose you could call us vigilantes, though we don't break the law, and we try not to draw attention to ourselves. Basically, what we're trying to do is to put an end to the war more quickly, by lending a helping hand when we can."

"Why are you telling us this?" Sirius asked, arms crossed. "Are you asking us to join your Order?"

Dumbledore beamed. "That is indeed what I'm doing. It's strictly voluntary, and you won't get paid, even though it can be both difficult, dangerous and time consuming."

"Why us?" Samantha asked, looking at her friends nervously, trying to see what they were thinking. "What makes us special?"

"I have watched all of you throughout your schooling, this year especially, and I have come to the conclusion that you are just the sort of members the Order needs: Young, determined, strong-minded, magically powerful, stubborn, clever, creative, resourceful, and most of all, unwaveringly loyal to each other, and to the light."

"Can we think about it, for a couple of days?" Lily asked. "I mean, it's a lot to consider..."

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "If you didn't need to mull it over, I'd be worried I hadn't made the right choice in asking you. One of you just needs to send me an owl when you've decided. I don't think I have to remind you that you cannot talk about this to anyone who isn't already in this room. Good afternoon, everyone," the Headmaster finished, before apparating away with a flourish, leaving the room in stunned silence.

"What are we going to do?" Peter asked, wringing his hands.

"Think it over, of course," James said. "We all need to decide this on our own. We can't have anyone else influencing our choice. Not when it's something so important."

"I agree," Remus said quietly. "We should all go home, come to our own conclusion, an d send Dumbledore an owl, either accepting or declining. This is something we can't do together."

* * *

"Mr. Lupin," Dr. Robert Nicholson greeted when he saw Remus about to step into his mother's room at the muggle hospital she was admitted to. "Here to visit your mother?"

"Yes," Remus said absently, the meeting with Dumbledore still on his mind. Forcing it out, he put focus on the conversation with his mother's doctor. "How is she?"

"She's..." The doctor hesitated.

"Please, be honest with me," Remus begged.

Dr. Nicholson sighed. "Alright. She's not improving much. In fact, I'd even say she's deteriorating slightly, though some days are better than others. Maybe your visit will cheer her up," he tried, smiling half-heartedly, but hopefully.

"Maybe," Remus said, though he doubted it.

"If you don't mind me saying so, son, you don't look too good yourself?" The doctor asked, frowning as he caught sight of Remus' exhausted look, face pale and dark circles beneath his eyes.

Remus forced up a grin. "I'll be alright," he said and that was the truth. The only reason he looked bad was because the full moon was only two days away. He was just tired. "I had my final exams and graduated last week; it's just been a very stressful month."

The doctor nodded. "Alright then. But don't overwork yourself," he admonished, before clapping him on the back and moving on down the corridor.

"Buffy would kill me if I did," Remus muttered to himself, before opening the door to his mother's room and stepping inside.

His mother's eyes were closed, her face looking pale and drawn even in her sleep and in the bright light of day. The bump from her highly pregnant belly was protruding from beneath the yellowish covers, making Dana look even smaller in contrast.

"Hi, mum," Remus whispered, as to not wake her, taking her hand. "I graduated a few days ago, and I think I did well on my NEWTs." He paused, feeling slightly silly to be talking to her when she was asleep.

"Buffy's moved in with me at our house, so I'm not alone," Remus continued. "I don't want you to worry about me. I'm fine." His throat suddenly felt very constricted. "I miss you," he choked out, tears burning in his eyes. "I wish you'd become healthy again. I wish dad had never died; then you'd never have ended up in this state... Merlin, there are so many things I wish had never happened!"

Remus closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths to get himself under control again. "I'm going to be fighting in the war against Voldemort," he said. "I'm a bit scared, but it's the right thing to do. It's going to be a bloody carnage out there. It's already happening. I couldn't possibly not fight." His eyes suddenly darkened. "I'll make dad proud. And I'm going to kill Greyback for him. For you. For us, mum. He won't be able to hurt anyone, ever again, not when I'm done with him," Remus promised, voice grim.

His mother stirred slightly. "John?" She mumbled, and Remus forced up another smile again as she opened her eyes.

"No, mum, just me."

"Remus," she smiled sleepily and Remus' heart jumped. She recognized him! "I had such a nice dream, John," Dana continued, and Remus' heart fell again. "Remus was there, and you were there, and we were all playing beneath the stars, under the moon..." She sighed, reaching up with the hand Remus wasn't holding, and stroked his cheek. "Such a nice dream," she repeated, before her eyes slipped closed again, and she went back to sleep, her hand falling back limply against the covers.

Remus took a deep, shuddering breath, placing a soft kiss on her brow, before standing up to leave the room. "I love you, mum. Get well soon," he added as he closed the door behind him, not allowing his tears to fall until he had left the hospital and apparated home.

* * *

Buffy's mind was a jumble of thoughts as she got ready for bed, Dumbledore's offer spinning around, making her crazy. Joining the Order would be the right thing to do, and Buffy wanted to help, she really did. But at the same time, she didn't.

Saying yes to Dumbledore's request would mean she had to fight again – become the Slayer again. And the year she'd had at Hogwarts had been so peaceful, so relaxing, that taking up arms and becoming the warrior she was chosen to be felt like such a chore. She knew it was selfish, but she couldn't help it.

Despite the occasional patrol and workout – which she'd done because she would have felt restless otherwise – Buffy had really felt as though the Slayer-part of her life was over; finished when she'd fallen through that portal and ended up here. She'd been given a chance to be a normal girl again, without life threatening duties and loneliness, and she had gotten used to it and didn't want to give it up.

But she knew her answer to Dumbledore's request could only be yes. Buffy knew the war would only grow larger – she could feel it in her gut, and the death toll could only grow longer before it was over. She couldn't justify sitting it out, twiddling her thumbs and pretending everything was peachy. Not when she could help. Whether she liked it or not, it was time to face the darkness again.

Buffy glanced at Remus, already asleep in their bed – _their _bed – exhausted due to the coming full moon. He'd also been fairly upset when he arrived back home after the visit to his mother at the hospital after the meeting. Buffy knew he too would decide to join the Order, if he hadn't made his choice already.

It was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. Neither of them – she actually doubted any of her friends who'd been asked would say no – could turn their backs on doing the right thing, on preventing the deaths of innocent people.

Slipping down beneath the covers of the bed, she turned off the lights, leaving the room in darkness, the only sound coming from Remus' deep breathing. Curling up against his chest, Buffy closed her eyes.

At least she knew she wouldn't be alone.

* * *

"What are you thinking of?" Mandy asked, wrapping her arms around Sirius waist. "You've been so quiet ever since you came back from James' house."

Sirius placed a soft kiss in Mandy's hair, looking around his new apartment, bought from the money willed to him from his Uncle Alphard. Mandy had been over all day, helping him set it up, and when Sirius had apparated over to James' house, not knowing what he wanted, she'd stayed behind, continuing with the unpacking and cleaning.

"It's nothing," he said, knowing he couldn't talk to Mandy about this. The offer from Dumbledore didn't include her: She was still in school and wouldn't even be considered until she'd graduated. A part of Sirius hoped she never would be although deep down he knew better.

He wanted to keep Mandy safe, away from the war. As a muggleborn, she was one of those already at high risk, and the further away she was from the frontlines, the better. He would do anything for her – he'd die for her, as he would for all of his friends, which made the choice whether to join the Order or not almost ridiculously easy: If there was anything he could to do keep his loved ones safe, he would do it.

"I can tell it's something," Mandy prodded, poking him in the chest. "Talk to me."

Sirius let out a puff of breath. "I wish I could, but I can't. I promised."

Mandy cocked her head to the side, looking up at him with a tender look on her face. "It has to do with the war, doesn't it?" She asked, and Sirius blinked, taking a step backwards in surprise.

Mandy smirked. "Ravenclaw, remember? I'm not an idiot."

Sirius chuckled ruefully. "I know you're not."

Mandy smiled. "It's alright that you can't tell me. I trust you." She looked up at him impishly, slowly beginning to unbutton her shirt. "So...what do you say? Time to baptise the bed?"

Sirius grinned widely.

* * *

"James, come to bed," Lily said, an exasperated look on her face as she watched her fiancé (Merlin, she loved that word) stare out the window of their new home. James had been standing in that exact position for over an hour, and Lily was beginning to grow worried. "Please?"

James sighed, though he didn't tear his eyes away from the night outside. "Why? I won't be able to sleep anyway," he said.

"No, but maybe you won't catch a cold," Lily said, rolling her eyes, standing up and walking over to him. "I know what's on your mind," she continues, resting a hand on his left shoulder blade, "it's the same thing that's on mine. Can't we sleep on it, and come to a decision in the morning?"

"I've already decided," James admitted, finally turning around. "I think I did the same moment Dumbledore asked me. I've always known I would fight in this war when I graduated. I always thought I'd do it as an Auror, and I still will, if I get accepted. But by joining the Order, I can help even more people."

Lily smiled slightly. "Then why are you standing over here? If your mind's already made up, what's there to think about?"

"You," James said, touching her cheek gently. "I'm worried about you. That you'll get hurt. That I'll lose you, when I just found you."

"Oh, James," Lily sighed. "You don't have to – "

" – Be afraid?" James interrupted. "But I am. I'm terrified. Not for myself, but for you."

"I can take care of myself," Lily reminded him gently. "And I'll be careful. We will both be careful, and look out for one another."

"So you're joining the Order too," James stated, swallowing, eyes bright.

"Of course I am," Lily said. "Like you said, I want to help people. And I'm muggleborn, my family are muggles, and they are the ones targeted the most in this war. I can't stand on the sidelines. I realize you're worried about me, but don't you think I'm just as worried about you? We're in this together, James. Everything will be alright."

James hugged her close to his chest, placing a soft kiss on her head. "Together, huh?" He asked, not happy Lily would be in even more danger than if she wouldn't have joined the Order, but accepting and respecting her decision. At least he would be at her side, and able to watch her back.

"Always together," Lily confirmed.

* * *

"I think those were the last boxes!" Samantha said brightly, wiping sweat from her brow. "What do say we take a cup of tea, and then go to bed?"

"I don't understand how you can be so cheery," Peter muttered. "Not after what Dumbledore asked us. And why couldn't we just use magic to unpack everything?" He added, looking around the apartment space above their store.

"Because," Samantha said, walking into the small kitchenette, "we might live almost next door to the Leaky Cauldron, but we're still on a street that's part of a muggle area. We shouldn't use more magic than necessary. And as for being so cheery despite everything," Samantha sighed, walking back into the main room, "it's not like deciding is the end of the world. And I've already made my choice."

Peter blinked. "You have? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I don't want to influence yours," Samantha explained, curling up on the slightly ragged looking couch in the room. "Like James said, we must decide this on our own."

Peter frowned. "I promise I won't let what you say get to me," he said. "I am capable of coming to my own conclusions."

Samantha bit her lip. "Alright," she finally said. "I've decided to join."

Peter blinked, slightly surprised. "Really? I mean, I thought you would, but I wasn't sure...you're not exactly the type to go looking for a fight."

"The Order is a group focused mainly on defence," Samantha reminded him. "We're not staging a guerrilla war. And besides, after what happened to my mother and little sister...how could I not?"

"It's about the revenge," Peter stated, nodding, certain he knew Samantha's reasons now. He could understand that.

"No," Samantha corrected, frowning. "It's about justice. It's to make sure no other family is ripped apart the way mine was. It's about doing the right thing, protecting innocent people." She stood up to turn off the now boiling water and fix the tea, leaving Peter on the couch, frowning.

The right thing...what was the right thing, really? And protecting other people...couldn't they look after themselves? Britain was part of a war that had been growing steadily worse for years – if the wizarding population wanted to be protected, they should leave the country, or something, not look for someone to save them because they were too lazy to pick up their own wands.

The reasons Samantha mentioned seemed so flawed.

Peter could understand the need for revenge. He could understand fighting because you wanted recognition for it, or because of pride, or for the right to live. He could even understand fighting just for the sake of fighting. Peter himself would join the Order because he knew all his friends would and he didn't want to be seen as the odd one out – that was something he was anyway.

But doing the right thing? Who decided what the right thing was? Who decided You-Know-Who's views were wrong, and the rest of the world's were so right? What made the Dark Lord so bad, really? He wanted change; Peter could respect that, even though his methods left a lot to be desired. But no revolution ever came quietly.

Still, Peter would never dare to voice these thoughts aloud – Hell, he probably shouldn't even be thinking them. But he felt so out of place – he always had, less when he met Samantha, but now it was starting again; that feeling of disconnection.

He wanted to find _himself_, do something for _himself_, independently from his friends and their expectations. Easier said than done, however. It wasn't like an opportunity like that would ever come knocking on his door. Because who cared about Peter Pettigrew, the average nobody, the sheep who went along with the mainstream. It was what he'd always done; what he always would do...

"So..." Samantha returned with the tea. "Have you decided? Are you joining?"

Peter smiled weakly. "Of course I am. Like you said, it's the right thing to do."

'_Because...what else is there?'_

* * *

**23 June**

"Severus," a voice said, and Snape looked up, startled, into the eyes of Regulus Black.

"Regulus," he grunted. "What are you doing here? I didn't think you were one to visit Muggle pubs..."

"I could ask you the same question," Regulus said lightly, sitting down opposite Snape in the dark corner booth.

"I'm meeting someone here," Snape grumbled. "Someone important. So if you would be so kind..." He gestured towards the door. "Leave."

Regulus chuckled, signalling the bartender for a beer. "Now, Severus, that's not a nice thing to say." His eyes sparkled. "After all, I'm the one you're here to meet."

Snape snorted. "Don't be ridiculous..." He trailed off, as Regulus nonchalantly put his left elbow on the table, his head resting on the palm of his hand, his sleeve slipping down and revealing a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth: The Dark Mark.

Snape breathed in a deep hiss as Regulus smirked at his reaction.

The bartender arrived with Regulus' beer, leaving as quickly as he came, and the younger Black sipped on it, shuddering at the taste. "This is what muggles call a beer? Disgusting," he muttered. "How can they drink this stuff?"

"They're muggles, what did you expect?" Snape said shortly. "How long have you been a Death Eater?" Snape asked, changing the subject.

Regulus chuckled. "Always going straight to the point, eh, Severus?"

"Just answer the question," Snape growled.

"Since the beginning of November," Regulus answered. "Low level, of course, until I leave school, but still part of the inner circle. Voldemort personally recruited me," he bragged, glancing at Severus. "Something we have in common, I suppose."

Snape just grunted, surprised he'd never noticed the younger Black had a Dark Mark. But then again, Slytherins weren't exactly known for being touchy-feely.

"Well, we should probably get going," Regulus said, standing up and dropping a few muggle coins on the table to cover the almost untouched beer. His eyes glinted evilly. "_He_ doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Snape wasn't quite able to completely hold back a shudder.

* * *

"Ah, Severus," a soft voice hissed in the darkness, the only light coming from a few torches around a large stone throne upon a figure almost cloaked in the shadows sat. "Please, rise."

Snape rose from the deep bow he'd made when he was escorted into the throne room by Regulus, who had then been dismissed. Eyes locking upon the face of the Dark Lord, Snape couldn't help but be surprised: Whatever Snape had expected him to be like, this was not it.

The Dark Lord's eyes were dark, but where the whites should have been was instead only a bloody red, giving him a hellish, dangerous look. His hair was long and glossy black, but with a hint of white at the temples. His fingers were spiderlike, graceful, but also a testament to the deadliness of his entire being.

He was also quite tall, probably looking taller than he was due to the fact that he also seemed very thin, though far from frail: The power was practically oozing out of him, distorting the atmosphere, and he seemed to be surrounded by an impenetrable darkness that made the air itself feel sick and heavy and difficult to breathe in, as though the Dark Lord himself was something unnatural and twisted.

Snape, though fighting revulsion from the wrongness surrounding the tall wizard, couldn't help but be mesmerised. He looked so regal, magnetic, filled with promise and power. The power!

The Dark Lord suddenly laughed, a high-pitched, cold laugh that buried itself deep into Snape's bones, and he knew he would never be able to forget that sound, even if he tried to. "Do you like what you see?" He asked, and Snape's mouth suddenly felt very dry. What was he supposed to say?

"I am honored to be in your presence, my Lord," Snape said, not quite knowing where he found the words, but apparently, they were the right ones, for the Dark Lord chuckled.

"Indeed." He sounded amused. "I have heard much about you, Severus, from my loyal Death Eaters. They say you are...eager to prove yourself, thirsting for power, a prodigy in Potions, hating muggles...and yet, you once spent a great deal of time with a muggleborn." The Dark Lord's voice was suddenly cold. "Why is that, Severus?"

"She...she's nothing to me," Snape managed to get out. "I have made my choice, my Lord, and I wish nothing more than to serve you."

"I am glad to hear it," Voldemort said, and then suddenly, a sharp pain tore through Snape's mind, as the Dark Lord attacked his mental shields with what must have been full force. Snape crumpled to the floor, barely holding back a scream. Then, as quick as the pain arrived, it was gone, and Voldemort had leaned back in his throne, a thoughtful look on his face. "Who taught you Occlumency?" He asked, voice natural, but with a hint of danger.

"M-my mother, my Lord," Snape stammered out.

"Eileen Prince. Yes," Voldemort said, voice low, suddenly sympathetic. "A powerful witch, in her own right. A shame that she lowered herself to become the breeding horse and punching bag of a mere muggle."

Snape tensed, his fists clenching in anger as his father's face flashed before his eyes. "I hate him," he hissed out. "I despise him. I want him dead!"

"Yes," the Dark Lord hissed, his eyes gleaming as he leaned forwards. "That you do. You remind me much of myself, Severus, in many ways."

Snape's black eyes flickered with surprise.

"Yes, we do have a lot in common," Voldemort said, seeing his look. "Maybe I will tell you just how much, someday." He paused, tapping his fingers against each other thoughtfully. "Your hatred for all things muggle is true, that much I can see," Voldemort said. "That is good. And yet...I don't think you hate _her_...Lily Evans."

"She chose _him_," Snape said bitterly. "She chose Potter. She's nothing. I don't care what happens to her." But as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they weren't true. He didn't want Lily to die. Even though she'd rejected him, he still loved her.

"Potter..." The Dark Lord mused out loud, as though trying out the word in his mouth. "James Potter, correct? Hmm...yes, I can see your hatred for him is also true. Because he now has what you don't. Jealousy...a powerful emotion, indeed." He smiled. "I see why you want to join me, Severus Snape. You want the power, the knowledge I can give you. You want revenge on your father, and muggles like him. You want James Potter's head on a platter, cooked and served. Preferably with a side dish of Sirius Black. And you want Lily Evans in your bed."

Snape's nostrils flared, not quite liking Voldemort thought he only wanted Lily as a mere whore. He _loved _her. But he said nothing.

"You desire her, because she's what you can't have," Voldemort continued. "I can give you all you yearn for, Severus. Even her, eventually."

Snape's head snapped up in attention. Suddenly, it didn't matter _why_ Voldemort thought he wanted Lily – only that he would give her to him. Once he had her, then surely, he would be able to make her forget all about Potter, to win her heart forever. Yes, he'd parted ways with Lily, letting her go, wishing her luck - because he wanted her to be happy - but he was certain, that if given one more chance, he could make her so.

One more chance, that was all he needed – all he wanted. He hadn't been able to get Lily to give it to him, but with the Dark Lord on his side...how could he possibly fail?

"My spies at Hogwarts are all reporting James Potter can become a problem: He's very powerful already, firmly on the side of the light, he has captured Dumbledore's attention, and aims to become an Auror. Eventually, he will die, either at my hand, or at my Death Eaters. It all depends on how troublesome he ends up becoming," Voldemort continued, tapping his long fingers against the throne's armrest. "As for Black...also powerful, and on the light side...for now. However, he does have ties to the dark, and he holds love for his brother still...that can be utilized, and if turned, he would be a powerful ally. However, if that does not succeed, his death is yours, Severus," Voldemort smiled.

"And Lily?" Severus croaked out, heart pounding in his chest. "My Lord?"

"The only thing standing between you and your little muggleborn is Potter. And when Potter dies, she is yours," Voldemort said, smiling. "It is possible the rest of Potters friends will try to keep her from you, but really, their bonds of friendship aren't as strong as they believe. Even now, there are cracks which are only growing wider."

Snape had so many questions, so much he wanted the answer to, but he knew he would get them eventually. This was not the time to ask. "To offer me all this," he said, head bowed, "is most gracious of you, my Lord. I will serve you willingly, do all that you ask, to the day I die. My soul is yours."

Voldemort cackled, that bone-chilling laugh escaping his throat again. "Indeed, it is. Give me your left arm, Severus, and enter my service."

Holding out his left arm, pulling up his sleeve, Snape watched in fascination as Voldemort pressed his pale spiderlike fingers against the inside of his forearm, muttering words in latin – mixed with what Severus thought to be parseltongue – under his breath, ending with a long hiss of _"Morsmordre!"_

Suddenly, the area beneath Voldemort's fingers was burning; his blood pulsing hot, the skin seemingly glowing. And then, the pain began.

Severus screamed, high and loud. It felt worse than a thousand piercing needles, and for a moment, he was sure he would pass out. Then, Voldemort's fingers were removed, and the pain stopped. Left on his arm, was the Dark Mark.

Voldemort smiled, and on the chamber wall, more torches lit, and all around them, Snape saw dark figures cloaked in black, with white masks covering their faces: Other Death Eaters. "You're one of us, now," the Dark Lord hissed.

* * *

_**Published: **__10/03 -10_

* * *

**A Note From the Author**

And so begins _Road of Carnage._ This story will, which I'm sure you can discern from the title, be a lot darker than _Road of Innocence,_ but of course, there will be happy moments as well. Below is a little story trivia, which will be placed at the end of each chapter, concerning continuity, interesting facts and so on.

_Enjoy the road,  
Ida (ladyvisionary)_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Regulus becoming a Death Eater was subtly hinted at in _Road of Innocence_ chapter 13. Blink and miss it.


	2. Order

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**24 June**

Sirius sauntered into the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade as though he owned the place, the rest of the Marauders, Lily, Buffy and Samantha, following at a more sedate pace. Walking up to the barman, Sirius threw him a charming grin.

The barman didn't move a muscle.

"Hello," Sirius greeted.

The barman grunted.

"We've come for that...special 'fiery'-brand you have in the back," Sirius said, winking, uttering the password-phrase they'd been told to give the barman at the Hog's Head in a letter from Dumbledore. The letter had been personally delivered by his Phoenix, Fawkes, once they had accepted the Headmaster's offer to join the Order.

The barman finally reacted, his eyebrows rising in surprise as he looked the group up and down, as though he couldn't believe they were Order members. "Follow me," he finally grunted, throwing down the dirty rag he'd been wiping the bar with (which really hadn't improved much, if at all).

The barman led them behind the bar and into the back of the building. When they reached a small room that was more of a supply closet than anything else, he flicked his wand and a trapdoor in the floor flew open. "They're down there," he said. "Close it when you're done," he added, before he stomped back out to the bar again.

Nervously, the Marauders climbed down, Buffy, being last, carefully closed the hatch behind her, before turning around and taking in the room.

The lighting was faint, and the furniture dusty and rickety. Gathered in the room, several different people stood, some of which Buffy recognized. To her left, Lily suddenly gasped. "Alice!"

One of the people gathered, a blonde witch with a soft, slightly rounded face, grinned widely at the redhead. "Lily Evans! It certainly wasn't yesterday!"

"You know her?" Buffy whispered in Remus' ear, seeing the rest of the Marauders were also grinning.

Remus nodded. "That's Alice. She was Lily's closest girlfriend while she was still at Hogwarts, though she's two years older. She married Frank Longbottom – the dark haired bloke beside her – straight out of school, just like Lily is planning on marrying James."

"If we're done with the soppy reunion," a voice drawled from a corner, "maybe we can get to business? These are the new recruits? Albus, really – are we so desperate we take on _children_ now?"

"Oh, give it a rest Caradoc!" Alice's husband – Frank, tall, handsome, and stately looking, said, rolling his eyes. "It's not like you were much older when Dumbledore came to you. And Alice and I were just out of school as well, and we've certainly proven ourselves, haven't we?"

Caradoc grumbled something unintelligible, and Frank looked amused. "I'm sorry, Dearborn, I didn't quite catch that," he said jovially, eyes sparkling.

"Well, you and Alice are a special case," Caradoc said stubbornly. "And Longbottoms are known for being...stoutly."

Alice coughed, sounding suspiciously like she was trying to hold back a snort. 'He's terrified of Frank's mother,' she mouthed to the Marauders, who bit their lips to keep themselves from laughing.

"I can see you, Alice," Caradoc hissed and Alice blushed.

Dumbledore chuckled. "It's nice to see the Order's newest members are being given such a hearty welcome," he said. "For those of you who don't know who they are: James Potter, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, Buffy Summers, Remus Lupin, Samantha Lowell and Peter Pettigrew. Just like Frank and Alice, just like all of you, really, I see much potential in them and I believed they will be a very important asset to the Order."

"I concur," professor McGonagall said, and all the Marauders grinned stupidly at their former Head of House's words.

"As do I," Mad-Eye Moody, hidden in the shadows of the room, said. "I've spoken to both Potter and Black before, and I look forward to seeing them in action." His magical eye was swirling around in its socket, before landing on Buffy. "Not sure about the rest of them though."

"I agree with Mad-Eye," a third member spoke up. "Potter, I can understand. Potters are known for being resourceful, magically powerful and natural leaders. Evans...well, considering Minerva is raving about her brilliance every chance she gets, I'll take her word for it."

Lily blushed, and even McGonagall looked faintly embarrassed.

"Black...well, I can see the need for someone with intricate knowledge of how dark wizards work – "

Sirius visibly bristled, and opened his mouth to speak, but a subtle shake of the head from Dumbledore stopped him.

" – The rest though...I've never even heard of Summers, Lowell, Pettigrew, or Lupin, other than that he's a werewolf – "

Pandemonium broke out. "Albus!"

"A _werewolf?"_

"What were you thinking?"

"Oh, shut your mouths! He can't help it!"

"You can't be serious!"

"So what?"

"He's going to kill us!"

"It's not a full moon, moron!"

"This is exactly what we're fighting against! Prejudiced idiots!"

Remus felt as though he wanted to sink through the floor. Within minutes, everyone was yelling, either lining up in defence of him, or against him. Even his friends had joined in.

"SHUT UP!" He finally yelled, drowning out all the yelling, and capturing everyone's attention. "Thank you," he said, face flushed. "Look, I don't want to be a problem. I can leave."

"If Remus has to leave, we will too," James quickly said, looking at his friends for confirmation and all of them nodded, crossing their arms.

Remus' blush grew even deeper. "Really, guys..."

"Ah, loyalty," Dumbledore said, pretending to wipe away a tear. "A beautiful thing. And no one has to leave. Yes, Edgar, everyone; Remus is a werewolf. He's been one since he was just a little boy, bitten by Fenrir Greyback. Despite that, he has never faltered in courage or in heart, and he also happens to be a quite powerful, not to mention intelligent, wizard. He will do the Order proud, I'm sure, and surely you can see the advantages of having a lycan on our side?"

People began to nod, until no one was disagreeing anymore. The man who'd first brought up Remus' lycanthropy, Edgar, spoke up again: "Alright, I see your point, and personally, I don't mind it," he gave Remus a kind look, "I'm sorry for creating such chaos – that was not my intention."

"Apology accepted," Remus muttered, feeling uncomfortable, still, with all the attention, and feeling as though the mayhem that had broken out was somehow his fault.

Edgar nodded. "And I didn't mean to slight you by saying I've never heard of you," he added, looking at Buffy, Samantha and Peter, "in fact, not hearing about a person can sometimes be a good thing. I'm sure Albus has his reasons for inviting you all here."

"Of course," Dumbledore nodded. "And I did not ask Sirius to join because he has knowledge of what it's like to be a dark wizard.. I asked, because he is not. Far from it, in fact. He was sorted into Gryffindor, 'disowned' himself while still in school, left to live with the Potters, and defied everything his family stands for. That, I think, speaks of much valour, not to mention utter dedication to the light."

Murmurs of approval travelled around the room, and Alice grinned at Sirius in encouragement, giving him a thumbs up, as a former member of Gryffindor house herself. She'd been Head Girl when the Marauders had been in their fifth year, and one of the people Sirius had had a crush on – but never dated. Alice had only ever had eyes for Frank Longbottom. Of course, the fact that Sirius was only a second year - albeit a thirteen year old one – at the time he had tried to 'conquer' her might have had something to do with it...

"Samantha Lowell is extremely faithful, just and level-headed, and she has a personal investment in our cause, due to the deaths of her mother and sister during the attack on Wiltshire. Peter Pettigrew is both dependable and reliable, and has always been a loyal friend to James, Sirius and Remus."

Peter inwardly frowned. Dependable? Reliable? Loyal friend? Dumbledore might as well have said 'dull,' 'doormat' and 'tag-along' – it pretty much meant the same thing.

"And Buffy Summers is the Vampire Slayer." Dumbledore held up a hand to stop the shouts of outrage and disbelief. "Yes, you heard me correctly. Yes, I know she's supposedly a myth, but due to an accident with a portal, Miss Summers travelled from her own dimension, where they are not, and ended up here, in this time and space. I think that concludes my explanation, and now, I believe we have an induction ceremony to go through. All questions can wait until later."

The initiation to bring them into the fold of the Order consisted of the new members touching an orb, blessed with the tears of Fawkes, and if it lit up, it proved they were all loyal to the cause and to the Order.

"Mr. Potter, why don't you begin?" Dumbledore said, nodding towards the orb, currently in a dull grey. With more confidence than he actually felt, James stepped forward, placing his hand on the globe, which immediately lit up brightly, almost blinding them.

James quickly pulled away his hand and the orb's glow slowly settled back down. James blinked, rubbing his eyes in slight pain. "A little warning, next time, maybe," he grumbled.

"I apologize," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "But I did not think the sphere would light up quite that brightly. Indeed, very few of our members have ever managed to bring about that strong a reaction."

Lily was next, and the sphere lit up again, almost just as bright, though this time, everyone turned their eyes away, just in case. Sirius glow was slightly less than Lily's, not blinding, but bright enough to make the shadows in the room recede to almost nothingness.

When Buffy, and then Remus, put their hands on the sphere, the light was quite strong, but slightly dulled: Dumbledore said he thought it was because of Remus lycanthropy, which was a dark curse, and Buffy's Slayer powers, which legend said originated from a demon: Buffy was quite shook up by that, as she had never known.

Samantha's light was clearer than both Remus and Buffy's, but not quite as strong – the reaction most of the Order members had had, according to McGonagall, and Peter's light had about the same strength.

After the ceremony, all the members sat down and introduced themselves, talking about their interests, area of expertise and what they did, or hoped to do, for the Order. Finally, the meeting concluded with the older members teaching the Marauders and the girls how to communicate through Patronuses – they already knew how to conjure one, as that was part of the seventh year defence course load.

All in all, the Marauders felt the meeting had gone well, even though it had gotten a bit of a rocky start, and they were looking forward to the next one when they'd actually get to the point of actual Order business. Everyone but Peter, that is.

His friends, Samantha included, had all gotten along great with the other Order members, talking and laughing. Peter had just felt out of place and overlooked – like usual. And though the orb had lit up for him quickly and easily enough during the ceremony, he'd felt dirty and sullied when he touched it: As though it – or he – was something foul; that the orb and what the Order stood for, wasn't quite meant for him.

Somehow, he doubted his friends had felt the same thing. And, though it seemed no one else had noticed, Peter had seen the glow of the orb had started to weaken _before _he pulled his hand away...

* * *

**1 July**

"Ah, Regulus, please, come in," Voldemort said, gesturing towards a chair. "Take a seat.

Slightly bewildered, but also intrigued over what the Dark Lord wanted, Regulus sat down, feeling honoured he was invited to the Dark Lord's private office, rather than the meeting chamber. "Thirty-five years ago, I tracked down a relative of mine, Morfin Gaunt, ancestor to Salazar Slytherin."

Regulus stared at him with slight awe and Voldemort smirked. "From his memory, I learned of a book. I had heard of it before, after finding an old text of legends in the Restricted Section of Hogwarts library... When I read it, a fire was awoken. I had to find the book – it was almost an obsession. Still, I had no idea where to begin, or if it even was anything other than a legend. Until then. I learned more about the book than I could ever have hoped to know, all by mere chance. It had once been in the possession of my family – no one knows where it first came from, only that it's old. Very old. I learned from Morfin that their family had come upon it long ago, after an ancestor stole it from the son of Ignotus Peverell – I assume you have heard of the Tale of the Three Brothers?"

Regulus nodded, extremely curious as to where this was leading. The Dark Lord's voice was mesmerizing, and Regulus felt as though he could listen to it forever.

"Ever since my visit to Morfin, I have been actively searching for the book, Morfin's thoughts gave me a lead to go on, that took me to another, and so on. However, now I find myself unable to continue. My goals for the Wizarding World as a whole, and my duties to my loyal Death Eaters, keeps me from my quest. This is where you come in."

Regulus eyes widened, heart beating furiously in his chest. Was the Dark Lord requesting what he thought he was?

Voldemort chuckled. "Yes. I need you to pick up where I left off. My latest lead is a man named Reslin – he often frequents Knockturn Alley, I believe." His red eyes bore into Regulus'. "I am counting on you to finish the search and find the book. The moment you have it, it is imperative that you _immediately_ bring it to me, in person."

"Yes, my Lord. Does...does the book have a title?" Regulus asked hesitantly.

"No. But do not worry. The book it very...unforgettable. Reslin, and everyone else you come across in your search will know what book you are talking about, believe me." He leaned back in his chair. "I am well aware you have to return to Hogwarts for your seventh year when September begins. That gives you two months. If you do not succeed..." The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed. "...I will be_ extremely _disappointed."

Regulus gulped. "You can trust me, my Lord."

"I hope so, Regulus. I hope so."

* * *

"You can't be serious?" Lily gawked at her friends.

"It's your last weekend as a free woman," Buffy said. "Come on, Lils! Let your hair loose!"

"My wedding is only a week away," Lily tried to excuse herself. "And I have so much to plan! I haven't even sent out all the wedding invitations yet!"

"All those who matter – us – have gotten ours," Mandy said, smirking. "You're not getting out of this."

"I thought we'd have a quiet celebration, a girl's night out – except in," Lily grumbled, crossing her arms.

"But what's the excitement in that?" Samantha asked brightly.

"Come on!" Buffy said. "It will be fun! And no one who knows you will see you anyway."

"It's embarrassing!" Lily complained. "A strip club? Come on! That's just not me!"

"So what you're saying is the only naked flesh of the opposite sex you'll ever want to see is that of your future husband?" Mandy asked with a raised eyebrow. "Not that James isn't mighty fine looking and all, but you're _eighteen,_ not eighty. You're acting like an old maid or something. Live a little!"

"Please?" Buffy begged. "For me?" She gave Lily the puppy-dog eyes, her lower lip trembling theatrically and Lily's shoulders slumped.

"Fine!"

Her friends all cheered and exchanged high fives.

* * *

"Charades?" James echoed, blinking stupidly at his friends. "Are you jerking my chain? What are we? Six years old?"

Sirius and Remus smirked. "It will be fun!"

James' stag-night took place at Remus house, since the werewolf didn't want to leave home to often in case Dr. Nicholson called about his mother – she was getting closer to her due date, and the doctor had said because of her condition, it was likely she'd give birth too early. Since he was the only Marauder with a phone in the house - lucky, since his mother was admitted to a muggle hospital – going out hadn't been an option, especially as Buffy was out with Lily and the others.

"You do realise you have to act too?" James said, hoping to dissuade them.

"Oh, but this is a special kind of charades," Remus said evilly, holding out a hat filled with several little folded notes. "One were only you act out, and we guess. Your mission is obviously to make us guess right as fast as possible."

"Which means, a realistic approach is necessary," Sirius nodded. "And yes, Prongs, all of those notes are terrifyingly humiliating, disgusting, or both."

"Can we at least get drunk first?" James begged.

"You may, but we won't," Peter said, rubbing his hands gleefully. "This is a night I want to remember!"

"Oh, God..." Lily's face was beet-red, trying to look everywhere but at the male stripper currently giving her a private show.

"Give her a lap-dance!" Buffy hollered to the laughter of Mandy and Samantha.

If looks could kill, Lily thought, her friends would be six feet under by now.

The stripper, dressed in only a pink leather thong, gave her a seductive grin, and Lily sank even further down in her seat. "I have to do a number on the stage now," he told the girls, "but if you want, I'll be back later."

"Bring your friends!" Mandy yelled after him as he left, eyes stuck on his backside. It was a fine arse, she thought, but she had to admit Sirius' was better.

"Want to get some more drinks?" She asked once he was out of sight.

"Please!" Lily begged. "I think I need ten of them if I'm going to get through the night."

Everyone laughed, only to falter when a silvery Patronus in the form of a stag appeared in front of them, and James' voice could be heard, sounding hurried: _"Remus got a call from the hospital, his mother is in labor. We're going there now." _The Patronus faded away, and all the girls looked at each other, before they quickly left the club and apparated to the muggle hospital.

* * *

"Remus!" Buffy said, running up to her boyfriend and throwing his arms around his neck. "How is Dana?"

Remus shook his head. "I haven't had word yet" He looked at the closed door behind which Dana and her doctors were, head hanging. "What if something goes wrong?"

Buffy only hugged him tighter in answer, knowing empty promises weren't what Remus needed right now. She couldn't say for sure everything would be alright, especially since she knew it was likely it wouldn't – Dana had been in a bad shape for a long time, and this labor might be what finally broke her. "I'm here for you," she said instead, stroking his hair.

Remus wrapped his arms around Buffy's waist, hugging her as if his life depended on it. "I'm sorry for ruining your bachelorette party," he said, looking up at Lily.

"You didn't ruin anything," Lily said, looking at him gently. "If anything, you saved me from embarrassment."

"Why don't we go sit down?" Sirius suggested, hands in his pockets awkwardly as he weighed back and forth on his heels, not quite knowing how to deal with the heavy mood that had settled over them. "There are some empty chairs over there."

"Good idea," James agreed. "We don't know how long this will take. We might as well try to get some shut-eye."

* * *

**2 July**

They had been at the hospital for several hours, and no word yet. Buffy yawned, leaning her head against Remus' shoulder: Her boyfriend was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest by the door to Dana's room, staring into space. Samantha and Peter had fallen asleep in their chairs, and Mandy was lying stretched across Sirius lap, staring up at the roof, as he absently played with her hair.

James was pacing back and forth across the hospital corridor, and Lily was reading a magazine, though Buffy wasn't sure how much she actually took in of it: She'd been looking at the same page for over thirty minutes now.

Suddenly, the door swung open and Dr. Nicholson stepped out. Samantha and Peter woke up with identical jerks, Lily hastily put away her magazine and everyone's eyes turned to the doctor. Remus practically flew up from the floor, staring at the physician almost wildly. "How is she?"

Robert Nicholson sighed. "It was a difficult labour," he said, then smiled. "You have a baby-sister: 3 pounds and 9 ounces. She's underweight, but I have high hopes she will be alright."

"And my mother?" Remus said tiredly, not having it in him to be delighted at the birth of his sister at the moment, nor that she would be fine – not if it was at the expense of his mother.

The doctor opened his mouth, only to close it again. Finally, he answered; "It doesn't look good. I'm sorry. The biggest problem isn't her health in general – she's very weak right now, but without a will to fight..." He trailed off. "I think you should prepare yourself for the worst."

"How long?" Remus managed.

"Unless a miracle happens...no more than a couple of days, at the most."

Remus nodded stoically. "Can I see her?"

"Once we've cleaned up the room a bit, yes," Robert said kindly. "It may take an hour or so."

The door opened again, and a small incubator was wheeled out by a harried looking nurse. Remus' eyes travelled to the small shape lying within, unable to take his eyes off it.

"Why don't you and your friends follow Nurse Taylor down to the SCBU and watch over your sister while we clean up the room," Dr. Nicholson said, seeing his look.

"Yeah..." Remus mumbled, eyes still stuck on the almost bald infant, wrapped tightly within pink blankets. "Yeah...sure."

* * *

"She's so small," Lily breathed, looking at the newest Lupin through the glass that separated them from the Special Care Baby Unit. "And absolutely gorgeous, Remus." Suddenly, she turned to James. "I want one."

James choked. "What?" He squeaked out, voice impossibly high and hazel eyes looking terrified.

Despite the seriousness of Dana's situation, the rest of the marauders, couldn't help but snicker. Even Remus' lips twitched, though he didn't let his eyes leave the baby.

"Well, obviously not right away," Lily said. "We're at war after all, and bringing a child into that wouldn't be very responsible, considering we're in the Order now. But I want one before I'm thirty. Hopefully – if the war's over by then – before I'm twenty-five." She smiled sweetly, patting a frozen James on the cheek. "Just so you know. Your father is named Harold, right?" She continued.

"Yes?" James half-stated, half-asked, voice adorably confused.

Lily nodded to herself. "Harry then. Harry James Potter. I always liked the name Harry."

James looked completely panicked. "You're already picking out names?"

"Well, if it's a girl, I'll let you pick," Lily said. "Just...no flower names, please."

James let out a strangled noise of terror. "That's not what I meant!"

Sirius sniggered, ignoring his best friend's input. "Can you just imagine a name like...Pansy Potter?"

James gave him a death glare, before turning back to Lily with a pleading smile. "Lils, don't you think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself?"

"No," Lily shook her head. "In fact, we should have had this discussion long ago. I want a large family. Maybe eight kids. Yes, eight is the ideal number."

"_Eight?_" James said weakly. "Why not two? Three, tops!"

"With three children, there will always be the risk of an odd one out," Lily countered, hands on her hips. "And two is too little. Eight is the perfect number. That way, everyone will have someone to play with. And I'm hoping for a couple of twins among those."

"_Twins?_" James sounded faint.

"I realize you can't plan that sort of thing," Lily continued, green eyes twinkling. "But I've read somewhere that twins have the most fascinating magical bond..."

"...I think I need to sit down," James said, fumbling behind him for a non-existent chair.

Lily couldn't help herself – she burst out laughing. "You...should have...seen...your face!" She gasped, Mandy, Samantha, Peter and Sirius joining in with her laughter.

James gawked at her. "You were kidding?"

Lily grinned widely, walking up to James and giving him a hug. "Of course I was kidding. Eight kids are a little too much, even for me." Her green eyes were sparkling with laughter.

"That was not funny," James spluttered.

"I had you going though, didn't I?" Lily said, placing a kiss on James' now pouting lips. "See it as payback for six years of continued torment at school." She smiled, squeezing his hand. "Two or three kids sound just fine."

"Thank Merlin," James muttered. "But you know," he added, "if you had _really_ wanted eight kids...I would have been okay with it."

Lily looked at him, surprised. "Seriously?" She asked, holding up her hand to stall any of Sirius' 'serious' jokes, that she was sure would arrive unless she stopped him. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sirius sulk, and Mandy patting his shoulder in mock comfort.

"Yeah." James flushed, lowering his eyes. "You know I'd do anything for you."

Lily grinned at him, ignoring the cracking sound of a fake whip that Peter did, and relishing in the smack soon afterwards delivered by Samantha. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Buffy grinned at the soon to be married couple, before turning her attention back to Remus. "Do you think she'll be a witch?" She asked him, nodding towards the newest Lupin within the SCBU.

"Probably," Remus said. "I mean, magic is in her veins...I suppose I'll find out before long. Magical newborns are automatically registered at the Ministry. All I have to do is go there and see."

"Elizabeth Diana Lupin," Buffy mused out loud. "That's what your parents decided to call her, right?"

Remus smiled. "You remembered."

"Of course. I remember everything to do with you."

"You can go see Mrs. Lupin now," a voice said, interrupting the moment, and the group turned around to see Nurse Taylor looking at them kindly.

Remus visibly swallowed, and Buffy took his hand in hers, sensing his inner turmoil. "Are you ready to go?" she asked.

Remus nodded, giving his newborn sister one last look. "Yeah."

* * *

"We'll be right outside," Buffy told Remus as they got back to the corridor outside Dana's hospital room. "Unless you want me to go with you?"

Remus shook his head. "No...I-I need to go alone." Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself before turning the doorknob and walking inside, closing the door behind him.

Sitting down at his mother's bedside, Remus just looked at her, wanting to memorize every detail.

Was this the last time he would see her alive?

Strawberry blonde hair hung loosely around a pale, drained face, cheeks slightly sunken, normally bright brown eyes staring at nothing, lips dry and cracked. Remus took her hand in his, trying not to think about the fact it weighed nothing. "Mum?"

Slowly, Dana's head turned, her eyes looking at him, glazed and unfocused. "Jonathan?"

"No mum, it's me, Remus," Remus said, squeezing her hand gently.

"Remus..." Dana smiled then, slightly crooked, but her eyes seemed to regain some focus, and Remus couldn't help but hope – maybe everything would be alright after all...

"Where's Jonathan?" Dana's brow furrowed as she looked at him, almost accusingly. "Why isn't he here?"

Remus' hope fell again, and he could feel wetness against his cheeks: He suddenly realized he was crying. "He's gone, mum," he choked out.

"Gone?" Dana looked confused, lips trembling, like a child's, on the verge of crying. "Really?"

"I'm sorry, mum."

"So that's why...I'm always looking for him...but he's never here," Dana said, voice growing more quiet with every syllable. "I feel so tired, Remmie..."

Remus took a deep shuddering breath, a tear dripping down to land on his mother's hand. "I know, mum."

Dana nodded weakly, eyes slipping closed. "Will you tell him...that I love him?"

She mumbled, her voice so quiet that even Remus with his excellent hearing had to strain to catch it.

"No, mum," Remus shook his head, breathing harshly, more tears clouding his vision as some part of him realized Dr. Nicholson had been wrong – his mother didn't have two days. She didn't even have two minutes. "You tell him."

"You mean I can see him?" An angelic smile spread across Dana's lips.

"Yes, mum," Remus said barely able to speak at all. "You'll see him soon."

"Thank you...Remus," Dana breathed out, eyes opening for half a second, her fingers suddenly squeezing Remus', with a strength he didn't think she still possessed.

And then, her eyes closed again, and her grip relaxed, her hand feeling heavy in his. By Dana's bedside, the heart monitor was suddenly racing towards zero, beeping wildly...only to stop at a single, long note, a green flat line on the screen the only thing Remus could see...the door slammed open, nurse Taylor, and Dr. Nicholson hurrying inside...and then Buffy was there, pulling him out of his chair, into her arms...and Remus burst into tears, burying his face in her shoulder

"I'm here for you," Buffy whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "I'm here for you..."

"Time of death; 05:47 PM."

"...I'm here for you."

* * *

_**Published: **__24/03 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- The barman is, of course, Aberforth Dumbledore.  
- Peter's thoughts about how being 'reliable' is not a very nice commendation is inspired by Willow in 'Doppelgangland' (BTVS 3x16).  
- 'The book' is a large part of the plot and is the first swerve into clear AU-verse: No Horcruxes or Hallows, here.


	3. Breathing

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**3 July**

The door to the SCBU slammed open and Remus tore his red-rimmed eyes away from the window, behind which the newborn infants lay, among them Elizabeth. He hadn't left the hospital once since his mother had died (was it only a few hours ago?), and though his friends had gone home, Buffy was still here as well. Startled, he watched as two men dressed in the wizarding robes of Ministry Officials streamed in, followed by a harried-looking Nurse Taylor.

"Now, see here!" The nurse spluttered indignantly. "You can't just come storming in here without permission. This is a _hospital!_ There are sick people here! Sick _children!_"

One of the Ministry Officials spun around, wand pointed at the Nurse Taylor's forehead. "_Obliviate!"_

Nurse Taylor's face became a blank slate, her eyes empty of life and glazed over. "We were never here," the Ministry Official said. "The Lupin child died with its mother."

"You were never here," Nurse Taylor repeated dutifully, as if in a trance, before she left the room, closing the door behind her.

The Ministry Official turned to Remus and Buffy, who was clutching his hand wide-eyed.

"Remus John Lupin, lycanthrope 30081966?"

"Yes," Remus said shakily.

The Ministry Official nodded. "I'm Tennyson, that's Jaeger," he added, nodding towards his partner who stood silent. "By the laws of the Ministry of Magic, we are taking your sibling into custody."

Remus was shaking. "Why?" He asked.

"As both your mother and father are now deceased – and I'm sorry for you loss – that leaves no one capable to take care of the newborn Lupin. She showed up on our magical records early this morning and therefore now falls under Ministry jurisdiction until a permanent place for the child can be found."

"Her name is Elizabeth," Remus said stiffly. "And what do you mean, no one capable? I'm of age, I've Graduated Hogwarts. I can take care of her."

Tennyson gave him a pitying look. "As a lycanthrope you fall outside the requirements necessary to be given custody of a child not your own."

"But she's my sister!" Remus protested. "You can't just take her!"

"We have a court-order here," the other Official, Jaeger, said, handing over a rolled up parchment. "You will find we have every right, and any further resistance to that right can be seen as defiance of the law, which is a punishable offence."

"I will take her, then," Buffy said, stepping forward. "If Remus isn't allowed to...I'll take responsibility for Elizabeth."

"And your relation to the child, is...?"

Buffy opened her mouth, only to close it again. "I'm a friend of the family," she finally said, having a feeling that introducing herself as Remus' girlfriend wouldn't help matters, considering the Ministry's biased view on werewolves.

"No blood-relation then," Tennyson noted. "I cannot in good conscience put her in your care, though you are, of course, welcome to try for custody at a later date, in court." He turned his attention back to Remus. "Any decisions regarding your sister's care made in your parents will shall not be contested by the Ministry if sufficient proof is provided that shows their chosen guardian is, indeed, fit to take care of an infant child."

"But she's ill!" Remus tried as a last resort. "She was born too early - she needs to be in a hospital!"

"And she will be," Tennyson assured him. "We are transferring her to St. Mungos hospital, which is her rightful place as a magical child."

"And my mother?" Remus asked, jaw clenched. "Will you be taking her, too?"

"Dana Lupin was a muggle, and as such, she falls outside our jurisdiction. Any funeral arrangements and other legalities fall into your hands," Jaeger said, handing over another piece of paper along with a quill. "If you'll please sign here, confirming that you are willingly leaving your sister in our lawful custody. And please, these parchments as well, as a verification of the information about your sister's date and time of birth, chosen name, weight, height and other physical attributes."

Remus hand shook badly as her signed the papers, desperately trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Tennyson said when he was done, rolling up the parchments and stuffing them inside his robes. He signalled to Jaeger, who opened the door to the SCBU and rolled out the incubator with Elizabeth in it.

Remus could only watch in despair as the Ministry Officials left, taking the last connection to his parents with them.

* * *

"Merlin, Moony, I'm so sorry," Sirius told his friend later that day when he heard what had happened.

"It's not your fault," Remus said bitterly. "I'm not even angry at the Ministry," he admitted. "They're just following the law."

"Which they made in the first place," Lily reminded him. "And it's a ridiculous law! Instances such as these should be tried on a case to case basis – just because the majority of werewolves are unfit guardians, does not mean every one is."

Remus shrugged. "I guess I'm just tired of fighting for nothing."

"Your sister is not nothing," Buffy said. "We'll get her back. We'll fight for her!"

"It won't matter," Remus said. "We won't win."

"You can't know that," James said. "We'll all help; we're all there for you."

Lily nodded. "Yes. Your sister deserves a loving home, not a 'Ministry-approved' family who probably could care less about her well-being. James and I have been talking, and we've decided to postpone the wedding until further notice."

Remus' head flew up. "You can't do that!" He exclaimed. "I won't let you do that!"

James frowned. "It's not your decision, Moony. We want to help – "

" – Then go through with the wedding," Remus said decisively. "We all need some happiness, and you and Lily shouldn't have to delay yours just because you feel some strange sense of duty to me."

"It's not duty," Lily said gently. "You're our friend."

Remus pursed his lips together. "If you're my friend, then you'll get married as scheduled," he said. "I will not allow you to rearrange your lives because of me. I don't want that guilt on my shoulders."

James sighed, knowing there was no convincing Remus when he was in that mood. "Alright, alright. The wedding will go off as planned. But if there's anything we can do - "

" – You can't," Remus said, smiling bitterly. "But thanks for offering."

* * *

**8 July**

"I can't believe them!" Remus raged, eyes flashing angrily as he paced back and forth on the living room floor. It was the day after the reading of his parents' will, and the Lupin cottage had gone to Remus, while the money and valuables his parents had had would go to Elizabeth when she came of age. Remus was completely fine with this – however, he was not fine with the outcome regarding the custody of Elizabeth:

Though the will had said the guardianship of Elizabeth should go to Remus, the Ministry had stepped in, overruling the pronouncement and keeping Elizabeth as a ward of the Government until further notice. "It's not fair!"

Buffy sighed from her place on the sofa. "Honey, please, sit down? Wearing a hole in the carpet is not going to help."

"He told me," Remus spat, "that Tennyson guy told me any decisions made regarding Elizabeth in my parents will, would not be contested. Mum and dad clearly stated in the will that if anything was to happen to them, custody of her would go to me. And then they do this!"

"It's the loophole that allows them," Buffy said quietly. "About sufficient evidence that show you're a fit guardian. And considering the Ministry's stance regarding lycans, the fact that you are one is enough for them to disprove that, and not even try your case further."

"I know that," Remus snapped, finally stopping his pacing to glower at his girlfriend for pointing out the obvious.

"We won't give up," Buffy said, ignoring his glare. "I'll contest the ruling; take it to official court..."

Remus snorted. "It won't matter. You're living with a werewolf. Their minds will have already been made up before you can even present a defence. It's out of our hands."

"Well, maybe Lily and James can take her in?" Buffy tried. "And doesn't Mr. Potter hold a lot of sway in the Ministry? Maybe he can do something?"

Remus shook his head. "I won't ask that of them. Lily and James are not ready for a child, and they'll be newlyweds soon; I can't ask them to take care of an infant. And since they're my friends..." Remus shrugged. "Their chances wouldn't look good either, even with Mr. Potter's help. The jury could claim they're not objective enough, and that they can't promise Elizabeth wouldn't be exposed to the 'big-bad-werewolf.'" He sighed. "No. The best we can hope for at this point are probably visitation rights, and even that's up to the family Lizzie ends up with."

"And considering it will probably end up being purebloods considering the Ministry is predisposed to them..." Buffy trailed off, realizing what that would mean for their chances of that happening.

"...I might as well consider that privilege lost as well," Remus finished dully, confirming her thoughts.

"Yay for justice," Buffy whispered bitterly.

* * *

**9 July**

It was pouring rain, soaking Remus to the bone, but he didn't notice; his eyes were stuck on the simple grey stone adorning his mother's newly filled grave.

Dana Isabella Lupin  
19 October 1929 - 2 July 1978_  
Angels are watching over us_

Remus pursed his lips. Though he had been the one to pick the inscriptions, he'd done so without any emotion in his heart. He felt so lifeless, as though he was the one lying in the wooden casket, and not his mother.

As he watched both his parent's graves, side by side, it suddenly hit him how ironic the statement he'd chosen for his mother's tombstone was: There were no angels.

There couldn't be, because if there were, why had they let his mother die? Why hadn't they been watching over her? It hadn't even been five months since his father's death, and now he'd buried another parent. He was an orphan.

"Remus, we should go home," Buffy's hand stroked his spine in a comforting motion. "You're going to catch a cold, and we have to get ready for James' and Lily's wedding."

"I want to stay a little while longer," Remus said hoarsely. "You can go if you want."

Buffy sighed. "No, as long as you stay, I stay." She let go of his back and clasped her hand in his instead, squeezing his fingers in unspoken support.

"Do you believe in angels?" Remus asked abruptly, once they'd stood there in absolute silence for several minutes, motionless.

"I believe in something," Buffy answered, leaning to rest her head on his shoulder. "I believe...that there's an afterlife. Whether that's Heaven or something else...that, I don't know. As for angels..." she smiled faintly, remembering another Angel she'd known...it felt like it was so long ago now. "I'd like to think so."

"If angels exist, and they're supposed to protect us," Remus said slowly, gripping Buffy's hand tighter, "why must people suffer?"

"Maybe..." Buffy hesitated. "...Maybe bad things have to happen so we can appreciate the good?" She half-stated, half-questioned. She'd never wondered before, and she had a feeling Remus hadn't either. That it was only now, here, with the funeral still fresh on his mind that he came to wonder. "I don't know, Re, I really don't... But I think that maybe, everything happens for a reason."

Remus laughed bitterly. "Reason?" He asked. "How can there be reason in death?"

"I think there is more reason in death than in life, sometimes," Buffy answered. "Easier. It's only difficult for those left behind." She bit her lip, trying to think of the right words to say. "Since Jonathan died...Dana wasn't herself. Your mother was suffering. Was there reason in that?"

Remus shook his head, swallowing. "No."

"Your mother is happy now," Buffy said, voice trembling as she tried to hold back her tears. "Her death might be painful for us, but for her, it meant salvation."

"I miss her," Remus choked out, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. "I think I missed her even before she passed away."

"She's in your heart," Buffy told him, using her thumb to wipe away the lone tear escaping from beneath Remus' closed eyelids. "As long as you remember her, she won't truly be gone."

Remus smiled then, turning to look at her. "I know. It's just so hard to feel anything but grief or emptiness. I thought I'd wasted all my tears by now."

Buffy smiled humourlessly. "I have a feeling we'll have more reasons for tears before the war is over," she whispered, tipping her head backwards and letting the cleansing rain fall upon her face, washing away her tears.

A wind blew through the graveyard and a sunbeam broke free of the rapidly fading clouds. Buffy smiled as she felt the warm rays hit her face instead of the rain, and she opened her eyes, gasping as a wide range of colours in the form of a rainbow appeared in the horizon on a suddenly bright blue sky. "Re, look!"

Remus wrapped his arms around Buffy from behind, placing a soft kiss on the side of her neck. "I see it," he mumbled. "It's beautiful."

"Maybe it's a sign," Buffy breathed.

"Maybe," Remus agreed. He peaked at Buffy's smiling face out of the corner of his eyes, and his heart skipped a beat in sudden realization. He had so much to be thankful for. His mother might be gone, but Buffy was still here.

She was still here, with him, and she was stunning. As long as she was still breathing, Remus felt as though he could make it through anything, even through all the pain and remaining heartache that was surely yet to come.

* * *

Lily ran back and forth on the Hogwarts grounds, yelling orders and adjusting the decorations and the lines of chairs: Everything had been set up last night for an outdoor wedding, but it had rained the entire morning, destroying almost all of her hard work.

After bursting into tears at the unfairness of it all (she wanted the sun to shine on her wedding day, darn it!), she'd been tirelessly working to get everything moved inside to the Great Hall instead. But the last chair had barely been levitated towards the entrance when, as if a miracle occurred, the rain stopped, the clouds disappeared and the sun came out – and everyone had to move everything back outside again.

The time that should have been spent on getting herself ready and practicing her vows, had instead gone to waste, all because the weather Gods had a strange sense of humour.

"Lily! Get in here!" Mandy yelled from the entrance doors. "You have to get ready! There's only two hours until the guests arrive, and you haven't even showered yet! Unless you want to marry James in ripped jeans and a t-shirt, you better get a move on!"

After a last adjustment to a chair in the row she was standing at, Lily turned around and ran towards the doors, her red hair flying behind her. "I'm coming! Have you seen James?"

"No, but Sirius tells me he's really nervous," Mandy said, grinning at the redhead.

Lily smiled weakly, her stomach churning, now when she didn't have the decorations to focus on, only herself. In just a few hours, she'd be Mrs. Potter. It felt almost surreal.

Finally, they reached the fifth floor and the winding staircase that lead to Ravenclaw tower, which the girls had claimed for the day (the boys were settled in the Gryffindor tower), and they began a long, spiralling climb, which made Lily feel quite dizzy.

As they reached the top, Mandy knocked on the door that led to the common room, and the bronze eagle knocker opened its beak: "Something old, something new, something borrowed and...?"

Mandy grinned. "Something blue, of course."

"Ah, I love wedding customs," the eagle said, the door swinging open, revealing a frazzled Samantha.

"Buffy and Remus still haven't arrived! I just flooed their home, and they're not there either!"

Lily's eyebrows shot to her hairline. "They can't still be at the funeral?" She asked. "It finished hours ago!" She could feel the panic just waiting to take her over – her maid of honour wasn't here.

"I don't know!" Samantha said, shrugging helplessly. "But where else can they be?"

"They'll come when they come," Mandy said reasonably. "No need to worry about it for another hour, at least. Lily, go take a shower – you're dirty and sweaty, and your hair looks like a crow's nest."

Lily glared.

"I'll go down to the entrance hall and wait for Buffy," Samantha said, opening the door, only to almost crash into Lily's mother who was just stepping through. "Sorry! Hi, Mrs. Evans, bye Mrs. Evans!" the blonde greeted, before disappearing down the stairs.

Marie Evans was smiling widely at her youngest daughter. "Lily, darling! You look – " Her smile faltered. "Awful. Honey! You haven't even showered!"

The former Head Girl rolled her eyes. "I'm on my way, mum," she said, giving her mother a kiss on the cheek. "Is Petunia here?"

"Yes," Marie said, frowning as she saw her daughter's grimace. "Now, they've promised to behave themselves..."

"They?" Lily exclaimed. "Vernon's here too?" She couldn't believe they'd agreed to come to her wedding – especially as it was taking place at a magical school.

"Yes," Marie repeated, "and may I remind you, you were the one to send the invitation."

"Common courtesy," Lily answered, "I never thought they'd accept!"

"Well, that's partly because of me and your dad," Marie admitted, slightly sheepish. "I pointed out that since you came to theirs, it _is _customary that they return the favour."

Lily grimaced. "Disfavour, you mean," she muttered, but then quickly brightened up. "Never mind that. I will not have them ruin my wedding day!" She gave her mother another peck on the cheek, before walking into the Ravenclaw bathroom area, closing the door behind her.

Marie turned to Mandy. "You must be Buffy! I've heard so much about you through Lily's letters."

"Mandy," Mandy corrected. "Buffy isn't here yet."

Mrs. Evans gasped. "What? But isn't she the maid of honour?"

"Yes," Mandy said, "but she's been at a funeral this morning – I imagine that's why it's taking her awhile. She'll be here, though."

"A funeral?" Marie's eyes grew round. "How awful, especially on a day such as this..." She sighed. "Well, maybe the wedding will cheer her up," she said, brightening up. "And I can't believe it's going to be at her old school, of all places – and a castle, to boot! Say, do you know why Lily and James decided to marry here and not in a church?"

"Church weddings aren't that common in the Wizarding World," Mandy said, "usually, you pick the site of the bride or groom's family home, or a place which holds a lot of special memories. I imagine Lily and James decided to marry here since this is where they first met. Hogwarts has practically been their home for the last seven years, and I suppose it's only fitting that they have their wedding here."

"Hmm. True enough," Marie agreed. "It was very nice of the Headmaster to agree, not to mention adjust those...wards against non-magical people, so we could attend."

The door to the common room opened again, and Buffy stepped through along with Samantha, looking tired but alert, and carrying a large bouquet of white flowers. "Sorry I'm late!" She said. "We stayed longer at the funeral than expected...Remus needed some time."

Mandy nodded. "Understandable."

Buffy smiled at Mrs. Evans, carefully putting the flowers down on a table so she could shake the older redhead's hand. "Hi, I'm Buffy."

"I figured," Marie smiled gently. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Likewise." Buffy looked around, surprised she couldn't see Lily anywhere. "Where's..."

"Lily's showering," Mandy answered. "We only just got her to settle down and get ready. She's been running around like a hen on drugs all morning."

"I heard that!" Lily yelled through the bathroom door.

* * *

"Best man." Sirius tried out the word. "Best. Man."

James rolled his eyes while trying to make his hair lie flat with the help of muggle hair-gel – and failing miserably. "I didn't pick you just so your head could get even more bloated."

"No," Sirius smirked. "You picked me, because I'm the _best man_ for the job."

James snorted. "Doubtful. Best _friend, _possibly."

Sirius pouted. "Don't you love me, Prongs? I've put my heart and soul into being the best best man there is."

James' lips twitched. "I don't doubt it. You have the ring, right?"

Sirius froze. "Uh..."

James dropped the bottle of hair-gel. "You don't have the ring?" He hissed, hazel eyes burning holes in Sirius head.

Sirius was digging through all the pockets in his clothes, brow furrowing. "...Apparently not," he admitted sheepishly when he came up with nothing but a few bubblegum wrappers and a couple of knuts.

James closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clenching his fists. "Padfoot, you have five minutes to find that ring before I _murder you._"

"I swear to you, Jamie, it was in my pocket." He paused. "Well, one of them...it might have been my other suit..." he scratched his head, not noticing as James' left eye twitched in anger.

The portrait hole swung open, and Remus stepped through, holding a ring in his open palm. "Hi, guys, I found this ring lying outside the portrait...?"

James flew up from the vanity (put in place courtesy of the house-elves, just for the day), and took the ring, making sure to inspect every millimetre. "Oh, thank Merlin!" He turned to glare at Sirius. "You are so lucky I'm in a benevolent mood today, Pads." He turned back to Remus with a strained smile. "Hi, Moony. Glad you could make it."

"Me too," Remus said, seemingly unable to take his eyes off of James' head. "James...your hair," he said slowly, pointing.

James frowned, patting it self-consciously. "Yeah? What's wrong with it?"

"It's very...stiff," Remus said, going for a diplomatic approach.

"You think?" James walked back to the vanity after giving the ring to Sirius, his eyes promising pain should he lose it again. "I used something called hair-gel to make it lie flat, but it didn't work, so I tried to do something else with it instead. Apparently muggles use it to shape their hair into different styles..."

"What Moony is trying to say, Prongs, is that with your hair sticking up like that, you're looking like a cross between a porcupine, pincushion and a cactus," Sirius said bluntly.

"Sorry, but it's even worse than usual," Remus said. "Take the gel out," he advised.

"I think it looks cool," James crossed his arms. "Wormtail?"

"Sorry to say it, Prongs, but I agree with Remus and Sirius," Peter said. "It sort of looks like you've speared your head with icicles."

Remus, Sirius and Peter all sniggered.

"Prats!"

"Look, James," Remus began once his chuckles died down, "Lily's marrying _you_, not your hair – "

" – But – "

" – And since your hair looked like it usually does – a complete, but _natural_ mess – when she fell in love with you, that means you have nothing to worry about.

James sighed, and shuffled into the bathroom. "You're right. Of course, you're right; I just want everything to be perfect for Lily, that's all."

"As long as you remember to say 'I do' and not 'I don't', and don't leave her at the altar," Sirius drawled, "I think Lily will be the happiest woman on this Earth very soon, even if the wedding isn't completely free from mishaps."

Remus smiled to himself, glad his friends weren't asking how he was doing or feeling, but instead acting like they usually did, bantering and teasing. He knew that if he needed to talk, they'd listen, just as they knew if he wanted to talk, he would: There was never any spoken pressure to open up with the Marauders – they accepted you unconditionally, and Remus had never been as grateful for their silent support as today.

He knew that going to his friends' wedding right after burying his mother could have turned into a disaster, with him feeling bitter and jealous and therefore ruining the mood, but now, Remus was sure that wouldn't happen. The sheer emotions of pure happiness managed to infect Remus as well, and he was truly happy for Lily and James. The wedding was yet another reminder that life goes on.

* * *

James waited anxiously at the head of the altar that had been set up outside, hands shaking nervously. Only Sirius' hand on his shoulder kept him from freaking out entirely. "Calm down, Prongs, before you have an aneurysm," Sirius advised him, his twitching lips betraying his humour.

"Where is she?" James almost growled through gritted teeth. "Everyone's seated; Lily's mother too, which must mean she's finished preparing..."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Breathe! Everything will be fine and before you know it, you'll be happily married to the woman of your wet dreams."

"I'm breathing," James said, inhaling deeply. "Breathing," he repeated, exhaling. His face took on a greenish tinge and he gulped deeply. "I think I've got to barf," he mumbled over his shoulder to his best friend.

"You do that," Sirius nodded unsympathetically. "_After_ the wedding."

"I can't wait. I have to -_ now_," James hissed.

In that second, the wedding march started playing and Sirius smirked. "Too late, I guess."

James inhaled once more, his breath stuck in his throat as first the bridesmaids – Mandy and Samantha – came walking up the aisle made up by the space between the rows of chairs in the centre, covered in a long white carpet dressed in rose petals. Then Buffy followed, smiling widely. And finally – James forgot to breathe completely as Lily came into view, lead by her father, who seemed to be holding back tears of pride.

Everything else faded away, became a blur, as James' hazel eyes were unable to take in anything or anyone other than Lily, even if he wanted too. Lily's cheeks were flushed and her green eyes sparkled, a nervous smile on her face. James grinned back stupidly, aware he probably looked like a dumb-struck fool, but not caring.

Lily was dressed in a shimmering white dress, thin straps holding it up on her shoulders. It was simple, but that only managed to enhance her natural beauty. Lily's red hair hung loosely around her shoulders, the only thing in it a flower the same shade as her dress.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Lily finally reached him and Mr. Evans let go of her arm, putting her hand in James'. "Take care of her," the man mumbled, and James could only nod, still in a daze. Lily smiled brilliantly at him, and as one, they turned towards Dumbledore, who would perform the ceremony.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, eyes twinkling at the couple and then the crowd, "we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls. By committing to a marriage bond, you commit your heart, soul and existence to a single person, in life, as well as beyond..."

"...With this ring, I thee wed," Lily said, smiling up at James tearfully. "I accept it as a symbol of this union, that we are one. It is a reminder of our love, and of each other. It is my personal promise to you, of my love and trust, and pride that you are my husband."

"...With this ring, I thee wed," James repeated after her. "I accept it as a symbol of this union, that we are one. It is a reminder of our love, and of each other. It is my personal promise to you, of my love and trust, and pride that you are my wife."

"Now repeat after me," Dumbledore said. "I pledge my fidelity and faithfulness..."

"I pledge my fidelity and faithfulness," James and Lily chorused.

"...My loyalty and honour,"

"My loyalty, and honour." James and Lily stared deeply into each other's eyes, barely noticing the sniffles coming from the seated guests.

"And my love and protection to you, until the end of days."

"And my love and protection to you, until the end of days," Lily and James repeated.

"And now, your personal wedding vows, please," Dumbledore said.

Lily smiled, holding James' hand tighter in hers. "James. My love. We got off to a rocky start – "

The people in crowd who had known Lily and James throughout their years at Hogwarts snorted: That was certainly the understatement of the year.

" – But during our last year at school, I saw a side of you I hadn't noticed before. Maybe I didn't want to notice. You showed me what love is, and now I can't imagine a life without you. I bind myself to you, willingly, gladly. I promise to always be by your side, to be your strength when you falter, as your wife and best friend. And most of all, I promise to love you for eternity. No one else will have my heart."

"Lily Marie Evans," James began. "I always hoped this day would happen, and now that it's finally here, I can hardly believe my luck. You make me want to be better than I am. You're my everything, and without you, I am nothing. I bind myself to you, freely, happily. I promise to always be there for you, to comfort you when you're sad, as your husband and best friend. And most of all, I promise to love you for eternity. No one else will have my heart."

Dumbledore waved his wand high over Lily and James, a white, silvery mist seemed to surround the two, sparkling and crackling, going faster and faster, until it finally split in two and entered their chests, over their hearts, leaving them both gasping. "The magic summoned has judged thee, and blessed thee," Dumbledore spoke. "And now, with friends, family and magic as our witness, I ask: Do you, James Harold, take Lily Marie, to be your legally wedded wife, and to cherish, love and honour her until the end of days?"

"I do," James said dazedly, still feeling the magic swirling inside his chest. He could almost feel Lily's soul adjoining with his, more and more with every heartbeat.

"And do you, Lily Marie, take James Harold, to be your legally wedded husband, and to cherish, love and honour him until the end of days?"

"I do," Lily repeated, smiling, feeling the same thing James did.

"Then I declare you bonded for life," Dumbledore said, raising his arms. "You may kiss the bride."

Neither of them needed any further encouragement. Their lips met and the guests burst out in simultaneous applause, but neither James nor Lily noticed as they only had eyes for each other. The magic inside their bodies filled them head to toe with joyful warmth before dissipating slowly, but rather than feeling empty, Lily and James felt a connection to each other that left them both elated and breathless.

"We did it," Lily whispered.

"Yes," James agreed. "Mrs. Potter." He leaned in for another kiss, as Dumbledore waved his wand above them again; showering them with silver sparks, falling gently around their entwined figures. Music began to play and more applause broke out as the guests stood up, everyone trying to be the first to reach the happy couple.

"Congratulations!" Buffy said, throwing her arms around Lily as Sirius, Remus, Peter and James' parents pulled him away from the redhead. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Thank you," Lily said, grinning widely. "I can't seem to stop smiling...I'm just so happy!"

"Well, I would hope so," Marie Evans said as she reached her daughter, sniffing slightly. "What a lovely wedding!"

Robert Evans put his hand on his wife's shoulder, smiling. "I agree." He glanced at James who could barely be seen through the crowd surrounding him. "He's a good man, Lily."

"I know," Lily said, smiling as she turned to gaze at a flustered looking James. "I know."

* * *

Petunia stood with crossed arms beneath a shaded tree, lips pursed in displeasure at the fact she'd been forced to be here. Vernon was looking just as displeased from his place beside her, but he also seemed quite twitchy at the sight of all the magic casually flung about.

"When can we leave, Pet?"

Petunia sniffed. "I don't know, Vernon. I have no idea and I'm certainly not going to ask one of those...freaks about those portly-thingies that brought us here."

She did her best to suffocate the twinge of jealousy rising within in her, covering it up with spiteful things about magic. Just the location had outdone her own traditional church wedding – a castle, of all places! As in everything else Lily did, she just had to surpass Petunia, she could never let her sister be the best, oh, no. Lily had always been the prettiest, the smartest, the most unique, most successful, the perfect daughter who could do no wrong. Petunia always ended up in second place.

Vernon grumbled in agreement. "Too right," he said, nodding. "Too right. They don't seem very sane. Imagine! Using a sock – a _sock_ – to get us here...abnormal, let me tell you! _Abnormal!_"

Vernon's last word was said very loudly, and several witches and wizards turned to stare at them, especially as they had interrupted Mr. Evan's congratulatory speech to James and Lily. They frowned. If they didn't want to take part in the festivities, they could at least have the courtesy to stay quiet.

Mr. Evans coughed, having lost his thread at his other daughter's husband's untimely disruption. "Right. Ehrr...Lily, James, may you live a happy, long life, with many messy-haired, green-eyed children. And James...I don't think I need to threaten you with bodily harm if you ever hurt Lily. I have every faith in you. Welcome to the family."

Lily smiled at her father, though she had to use every ounce of self-control not to turn and glare at her sister and Vernon. Had they never heard of manners? This was her wedding, and Petunia and Vernon were sullying it by their presence and disrespect.

As if knowing what she was thinking, James squeezed Lily's hand beneath the table in silent support. "Ignore them," he mumbled in her ear. "Don't let them ruin today. Don't give them the satisfaction."

Lily squeezed his hand back. "I won't."

After the wedding dinner and dessert, all the chairs and tables were banished and a dance floor appeared instead.

Music began to play, and James led his bride out into the centre, moving like a pro as he twirled the redhead around, occasionally pausing to give Lily a kiss. "I think I'm so happy I could burst," he murmured as he dipped Lily towards the floor.

"Could be messy," Lily quipped, laughing as she caught sight of Sirius and Mandy doing a very uncoordinated dance that had nothing to do with the pace or sound of the music.

"Hmm...you're right. I'll try to hold it in," James smirked. "Is it just me, or do you want this reception to be over as soon as possible so we can get to our honeymoon?"

Lily grinned dreamily. "It's not just you. I can't wait either." She bit her lip and stared up at James seductively through her eyelashes. "I have been very patient, James Potter," she said. "But no more excuses. I want you..._all _of you_."_

James choked on nothing, his entire face flushing. "Lily!" He hissed, eyes darting around nervously. The former Head Girl laughed, pulling on James' tie teasingly.

"Everyone's too busy to hear us, don't worry," she said. "And speaking of you and me...I always wondered why you never brought it up during our relationship?" She mock-pouted. "Don't you want me?"

James gulped, pulling Lily closer. "Merlin, yes," he muttered. "Do you have any_ idea _how hard it's been to hold back?"

Lily smiled wickedly, glancing down between their bodies meaningfully. "I can imagine."

James growled, kissing Lily firmly on the lips, giving her another twirl, just as a new song began to play. "Tease."

"So, are you going to tell me why?" Lily asked a couple more songs later spent in comfortable silence.

"I always wanted my first time – _our _first time together – to be special," James said. "And after marriage. I guess I'm old-fashioned that way."

Lily stared at him with round eyes.

James coughed uncomfortably, neck growing warm. "I never felt the need to do it just to have it done," he shrugged. "I always wanted it to be with someone I loved, with one person only."

"I love you," Lily whispered then, feeling extremely lucky and privileged. She now knew for sure that marrying James Potter was the best decision she could have possibly made – something she would never regret. Not that she'd doubted, but being told James had saved himself for true love, for marriage, for _her_...well, Lily had never before felt so loved.

"And I love you," James whispered back, and they paused in their dance to meet in another, long, intense kiss, the rest of the world fading away.

* * *

_**Published: **__07/04 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- The wedding ended up as a mixture between muggle and magical, because of Lily's muggleborn status and James' pureblooded one.


	4. Unisex

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**12 July**

Regulus sipped his drink by the bar as he waited for his target to approach. His visit to Reslin lead him to Hong Kong, to Greece, to a tribe in South Africa, and lastly, to Sweden, his current location.

While he hadn't run into any dead ends yet, Regulus never seemed to reach his goal either. All the people he approached lead him to someone else, but never to the person that he wanted to find – the one who had the book in his or her possession. He hoped his luck would turn tonight. Finally, Magnus Wennermark, a frequent visitor to _Tranan, _a tavern in Stockholm, and the person he hoped would lead him to the book, at last, stepped inside the crowded tavern, and Regulus let his eyes trail over the man in contemplation.

Regulus had done his research on Magnus Wennermark, a writer and collector of antiques. He'd spent some time in the same tribe in Africa as Regulus had visited, for 'research' – and, according to the tribe leader, the book had disappeared when he did. The Black heir thought the Swedish man had probably stolen it.

The tribe believed the book possessed unknown power, and guarded it as an object of worship. They said that a pregnant woman had arrived one day with it, and when she died in childbirth, she had begun to glow – and the glow had then seemingly been sucked into the book. Regulus had realized the woman must have been Elena Kostas, the person he'd tracked from Greece.

He was woken up from his thoughts when Wennermark approached the bar, presumably to order. Swallowing the last of his drink, Regulus pointed his wand at Wennermark from beneath his sleeve and whispered _"Imperio"_ under his breath. He didn't like to use Unforgivable curses, but he doubted another compulsion charm like the one he'd used to get into the bar would do it. "Let's go outside," he prompted the moment the man's eyes glassed over.

Wennermark nodded dazedly and followed the Slytherin outside into the pleasantly cool night air, and into a nearby alley. Another quick wave with his wand, and Regulus made sure no one would approach, or even notice them. Cancelling the Imperio, he dosed Wennermark with three drops of Veritaserum before he could regain his wits. "What did you do with the book you stole from the tribe in South Africa?" Regulus asked, going straight to the point.

Magnus blinked. "I took it home."

"Why?"

"I wanted to add it to my collection," Wennermark answered in halting English.

"Why?" Regulus repeated.

"The story the tribe told me about it woke my interest."

"Where is it now?"

"I don't know."

Regulus closed his eyes in frustration. Damn it! "Why not?"

"I sold it to a man."

"What man? What was his name?"

"Roberto."

Well, that was a lot of help, Regulus thought sarcastically. "He didn't have a last name?"

"No."

"Do you know where he was headed?"

"No."

Regulus clenched his fists hard to keep himself from hitting the useless muggle in the face. "Where was he from, do you know that?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Brazil."

Regulus groaned out loud. Brazil. Great. He would have been all over the world before he found that stupid book, if ever. "Do you have a way to contact him?"

"No."

Regulus shoulders slumped. How the hell was he supposed to find the book now? With no last name for 'Roberto', it was like finding a needle in a haystack. Or...maybe not. "The day he bought the book from you...what date was it?"

"I don't know the exact date."

"Make an educated guess," Regulus said dryly.

"Beginning of March 1975."

Regulus thought quickly. It was unlikely that his search would end in Brazil if it had been that long ago. Still, at least he had a lead. He would have to get his hands on some Swedish flight records from that time (Merlin, he hoped the man had travelled by plane and not some other idiotic muggle contraption) and try to find Roberto on them, and go from there.

He grimaced. At least muggle studies paid off, even if he found the subject utterly ridiculous – if he'd been an average ignorant pureblood, his search would have been over long ago. But then again, Regulus prided himself on being far above average.

"_Obliviate,"_ Regulus pointed his wand at the muggle, seeing the Truth Serum was beginning to wear off. "Go back into the bar. If anyone asks, you went out to get some air. You never met me."

"I never met you," Wennermark repeated, walking off, swaying slightly. Regulus cancelled the charms surrounding the area, and, after looking around, apparated away with a slight 'crack.'

* * *

**16 July**

"Denied." Remus sighed. "Again." Since the reading of the wills, he'd sent no less than six letters requesting a reopening of the custody case regarding his sister, to be taken up in court. Each had been returned with a bright red _'denied'-_stamp pasted on the front. The Ministry had made up its mind, it seemed, and no amount of persuasion or stubbornness would make them so much as waver.

"Well," Buffy said, while reading the official statement as to why – it had been saying the exact same thing for the last five letters, but this time, another note had been scribbled in. "It says here you're allowed to send a protest against whatever family Elizabeth ends up with, if you feel they are insufficient."

Remus snorted. "Right. Like that will do any good. Whoever Lizzie ends up with will already be Ministry approved, full backup and all. I can protest all I want; the result will be the same no matter what I do."

Buffy bit her lip, knowing Remus was right, and absolutely loathing the fact they could do nothing. "Lily and James return from their honeymoon today," she said instead.

"I won't ask them to step in and try for custody," Remus said quickly and Buffy rolled her eyes at his predictable response. "They're newlyweds, and they deserve better than to be dragged through the mud in my quest for justice which will never happen."

"I know you won't." Buffy rolled her eyes. "I was just pointing it out."

"Sorry," Remus pulled a hand through his hair ruefully. "I guess I've had a one track mind lately."

"Understandable," Buffy said. "Elizabeth is your family."

"But so are you, and my bad mood taints your mood and none of us is happy. That's not fair to you," Remus said.

Buffy smiled, feeling warmth spread up her body from the tip of her toes when Remus called her family. "Yes, well, let me be the judge of what's fair to me and not. Your happiness makes me happy, so I'm more than willing to put up with your obsessions."

"Obsessions, huh?" Remus asked with a raised eyebrow and Buffy giggled, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Yep."

* * *

"Prongsie-poo!" Sirius cried loudly, running towards his sunburned – and suddenly rather terrified-looking – best friend, with his arms open. "You're back!" He sobbed into James' chest. "I've missed you!"

"Eh – " James stared at an amused looking Lily incredulously, before he caught his bearings and he patted Sirius on the head. "Well…I haven't missed you, but I'm glad I'm obviously loved."

Sirius began to mock-bawl, burying his face in James' shirt, ignoring the passing witches and wizards who were staring at them incredulously.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Mandy, could you please get your mutt of my husband?"

Mandy cocked her head and pretending to think, glancing at Sirius and James who had now joined in with her boyfriend's antics: He'd conjured up a flowery handkerchief and a pacifier for Sirius which he eagerly accepted with a childish squeal.

"Nah. No use. They're both lost cases."

"If you could please leave kindergarden for a few seconds?" Lily begged, trying to ignore the sniggers from Buffy, Remus, Peter and Samantha. Honestly; they'd been back in England for less than an hour!

"Right. Sorry, Lily-kins," Sirius said, straightening up. "I was just giving James some practice for the baby. When are you due?"

Lily blinked and James froze. "Excuse me?"

Sirius smirked. "Well, I just figured it's only a matter of time."

James spluttered, red in the face. "Padfoot! We're newlyweds!"

Sirius smirk grew. "My point exactly."

* * *

**17 July**

"Did you get them?" Lily apparated straight into the living room of the Lupin cottage, startling Buffy and Remus who were just about to open the envelopes containing their NEWT level results.

"God! Lily!" Buffy hissed, picking up her envelope from the floor where she'd dropped it. "Yes, we got them. From the look on your face, I assume you've already opened yours?"

Lily flushed. "Yes. And James is over at Sirius showing off his results, of course."

"Well, what did you get?"

Lily mumbled something and Remus lips' twitched. "Sorry, Lily, I didn't catch that?"

"All Outstandings, alright?" Lily said.

"Brilliant work!" Buffy enthused. "And utterly predictable. What did James get?"

"Outstandings in everything but Muggle Studies and Potions. He got E's in that," Lily said. "Buffy? Open your results?"

Buffy shook her head. "No, Remus first, please?"

Remus sighed, not really caring about his results one way or another: It wouldn't matter anyway. "Four Outstandings, Exceeds Expectations in History and Transfiguration, and an Acceptable in Potions."

"Alright! I knew you'd do brilliantly!" Lily beamed at him, before turning to Buffy and snatching the envelope out of her hands.

"Hey!"

"If you won't read it, I will," Lily countered, her eyebrows rising as she took in Buffy's results.

"Well?" Buffy asked anxiously, and Lily handed the result sheet back.

"See for yourself."

Buffy looked down and her heart fell: While her results weren't bad, she didn't have enough to get accepted into Healer training as she'd hoped.

_NASTILY EXHAUSTING WIZARDING TEST RESULTS_

_Pass grades  
Outstanding (O)__  
__Exceeds Expectations (E)__  
__Acceptable (A)_

_Fail grades  
__Poor (P)  
__Dreadful (D)  
__Troll (T)_

_BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS HAS ACHIEVED:_

_Charms: E  
__Defenc__e Against the Dark Arts: E  
__Herbology: __A__  
__Muggle Studies: O  
__Transfiguration: __A  
__Potions: __A_

"Well?" Remus asked expectantly, and Buffy swallowed.

"Umm...one outstanding, two Exceeds Expectations and three Acceptables," Buffy muttered, extremely disappointed with herself. She'd needed E's in Herbology, Transfiguration and Potions for Healer training...

"Oh, Buffy..." Remus sighed, hugging her from behind.

"Cheer up, Buffy," Lily said. "You've only done one year of school and didn't fail anything!"

"I know," Buffy said. "And I guess I'm sort of proud...But this blew my chances at becoming a Healer..."

"No, it didn't," Lily said. "While your results don't assure you a spot at Healer training, a lot of people get accepted with lower results than what the requirements state. It all depends on how many apply, how the job interviews go, and aptitude for Healing magic in general. You still have a good chance, Buffy."

Buffy perked up at that. Lily was right. It wasn't over until it's over.

* * *

**18 July**

"Have you seen my application form?" Buffy asked Remus anxiously. "I have to send it to St. Mungo's today…"

"It's on the kitchen table," Remus said absently, chewing on the edge of a quill.

Buffy frowned at the high pile of parchments in front of her boyfriend. "What's that?"

_"My _application forms," Remus said dryly, signing his name at the bottom of a parchment. "I figured I'd better send them to all the open job-offers I can get my hands on. Maybe with some luck, at least one or two won't reject me outright."

Buffy's frown deepened but she said nothing, knowing it wouldn't do any good: Remus was certain none of his accomplishments or NEWTs would matter, once the people in charge of the job applications saw his werewolf ID. "Better safe than sorry, I guess," she said instead, trying to be positive in the face of Remus' cynicism.

Remus massaged his head, feeling the beginnings of a headache. The full moon was in a couple of days, and he could already feel its pull. "Just because I send at least thrice the amount of applications than anyone else doesn't mean I'm 'safe,' Buffy," Remus muttered and the blonde rolled her eyes.

"I know. But a little optimism wouldn't kill you, you know."

"I'd rather be negative and end up pleasantly surprised if something good happens, than get my hopes up for nothing," Remus answered.

Buffy shook her head in exasperation, but she smiled fondly at the lycan. "The glass is always half empty for you, isn't it?"

"Always," Remus agreed, smiling back.

* * *

**23 July**

"Have you gotten an answer from the Auror Academy yet?" Lily asked James as they sat in _The Leaky Cauldron _having dinner, taking a break from helping Peter and Samantha set up their store.

James shook his head. "No, not yet. Sirius reckons we should get them in the beginning of August. And you? You've been awfully tight-lipped about your plans."

"That's because I'm not sure. I still have plenty of time to send in applications if I have to, but I talked to...some people during the work-fair at Hogwarts, and they said they'd contact me if they had an opening at their workplace."

"Which is...?"

"I can't tell you," Lily said sheepishly. "Not until I know, anyway."

James eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. Suddenly, he had quite a good idea what sort of occupation Lily had been offered, considering how reluctant she was to say anything. Only one place in the Wizarding World held that amount of secrecy: The Department of Mysteries. "Alright," he said slowly. "I won't ask."

Lily's lips twitched. "You already know what it is, don't you?"

James shrugged. "Well, I have a guess which I'm pretty certain about."

Lily chuckled. "Yes, I suppose all this secrecy is a dead giveaway."

James rose from his seat. "I'll go buy another butterbeer – do you want one?"

"Yes, please."

A few seconds after James left their corner table to approach the bar, a cloaked figure approached Lily, walking past her seat and dropping a note onto the floor casually.

Lily bent down and picked up the small piece of paper. "Hey, you dropped – " the red-head looked up, but the mysterious figure was already gone, "something." Lily frowned, before she quickly unfolded the piece of paper, curiosity getting the better of her.

_4 September, 07:00  
__Department of Mysteries_

Lily's heart began to thump in her chest. The Unspeakables had made contact (because she did not believe that note had been dropped by mistake). The next step was up to her. If she wanted to become one of them, she had to go to the Department of Mysteries at the date and time on the note. If she didn't, all she had to do was to not show up.

Lily inhaled deeply, before pulling out her wand. "_Incendio."_ Watching the note go up in flames, Lily made her decision. The Unspeakables had decided to take her on, to give her a chance. Only a fool would turn them down.

* * *

"Tada!" James said, holding two newly conjured t-shirts with a flourish.

Lily raised her eyes at her husband. "What on Earth is that?"

"Order of the Phoenix t-shirts," James answered enthusiastically. "I'm going to give one to every member. To wear as a sign of pride!"

Lily pinched the bridge of her nose. "James, you _do_ know we're a secret society?"

James shrugged. "Sure. That's why these are so great! I mean, it's just a red t-shirt with a golden phoenix. It's not like they declare in bold letters that_ 'I'm an Order of the Phoenix member'_. You could have gotten these at practically any magical clothing store."

"Still...I think it's too obvious...not to mention extravagant. Besides, not everyone in the Order are Gryffindors...maybe they'd appreciate a different colour?" Lily tried.

James pouted. "But the gold goes so well with the red!" Seeing Lily's look, James' shoulders slumped. "Fine. No t-shirts for the Order. But I'm keeping one for me and Padfoot! It's a matter of pride you know."

A loud sound interrupted whatever answer Lily had on her tongue, and they both ran outside, James nearly running into Lily when she suddenly stopped to stare at the utter monstrosity of a sight in her and James' garden.

"Hi, guys!" Sirius grinned as he turned off the motor and de-mounted his motorbike.

"Padfoot…" James was almost whimpering. "Is that…"

"A motorbike?" Sirius smirked, patting the sleek metal lovingly. "Yep. I bought her three days ago. It has a sidecar as well, but I left it at home."

"She's _gorgeous!"_ James' eyes were shiny and Lily rolled her eyes to herself.

"Boys and their toys," she muttered, shaking her head as James rushed past her to admire the bike from close up. "Why did you get that thing? It must have been expensive?"

Sirius shrugged. "Not more than I could afford. And do you even have to ask why?" He let an eyebrow raise, and then began to count all the positive sides off from his fingers, one by one. "It's cool, it brings class, status and respect, it's intimidating, it's pretty and it will bring jealousy from the guys and attention from the ladies. It will be like free marketing for Sirius Black, soon-to-be-Auror Extraordinary. Everyone will want one of these!" His smile turned smug. "In fact, everyone will want one of _me."_

Lily groaned. "Have you forgotten Mandy?" She asked dryly. "Your girlfriend?"

"Of course I haven't!" Sirius exclaimed. "But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the admiration from others. As long as that's all I do. Plus, some innocent flirting never harmed anyone."

Lily rolled her eyes, knowing she might as well be talking to a brick-wall.

James eyes were glinting. "I know what will make that bike even better…"

Lily backed up a step on the porch, suddenly rather terrified of the next thing to pass James' lips.

"Yes…?" Sirius trailed off expectantly.

James had a rather insane grin on his face. "If we enchant it to fly!"

Lily smacked a palm against her face, shaking her head as Sirius let out a whooping noise of joy. "YES! The first flying motorbike in existence!"

He and James hooked arms and began to dance around on the spot, cheering and jumping up and down.

Lily could only shake her head in despair, knowing it was useless to remind them of Ministry laws and permission sheets. Not to mention driver's licenses…

* * *

**25 July**

Over the next couple of days, Sirius spent most of his time at Godric's Hollow, busy with the motorbike which James was helping him with. Other than enchanting it to fly, they also made it go way above the normal speed limit, made it run off of magic so no gasoline was necessary, and other handy spells such as an invisibility spell, an everlasting-shine spell (no chance of rust, here!) and a cushioning spell on the seat.

"All done!" Sirius grey eyes shone with excitement. "Let's go for a test drive!"

"No, nu-uh, no way," Lily protested. "It's almost dark!"

"Oh, please, Lily?" James begged. "We'll be back before you know it!"

Lily looked indecisive. "Alright," she finally grumbled. "But just one turn!"

"Yes!" James clambered on to the back of the motorcycle, settling down behind Sirius who had already mounted it.

Lily watched anxiously as Sirius started to motorbike and drove it around the garden once, before pushing a button, and Lily whimpered as the large vehicle rose into the air. "YIHAAAA!" James shouted.

"Just one turn!" Lily reminded them, but became worried when Sirius smirked down at her.

"You never said where…one turn around Bristol should do it, eh, Prongs?"

And as Lily's eyes widened in horror, Sirius punched another button and the bike shot off into the sky, until it disappeared out of sight completely, carrying James and Sirius with it, both wearing the phoenix t-shirts. But of course, Lily thought, unimpressed, they had both forgone helmets.

* * *

Unfortunately for James and Sirius, their tour by motorbike wouldn't end up as calm as expected. As they flew over Bristol, they caught sight of a burning house with a Dark Mark soaring above it.

James eyes narrowed and he pulled out his wand. "Can we handle this, or should we summon the Order?" He asked over the roar of the motorbike, glad they were still far enough away that the Death Eaters shouldn't hear them, if they hadn't left already.

"No time for that. We can handle it," Sirius said confidently. "Right?"

James smirked. "Right."

Sirius spun in the air, diving towards the house. As they got closer, they saw five Death Eaters exiting the building, having been alerted by the sound coming from the bike. Before they could react, James pointed his wand at one of them. _"Stupefy!"_

The remaining four cloaked figures dove out of the way as James fired off several more spells in succession. They grabbed four broomsticks that had been discarded on the grass (presumably their way of transport), mounted them and rose towards the still flying bike.

Sirius rose further to avoid the spells being fired, while James shot spells of his own at the approaching riders._ "Confringo! Diffindo! Expulso! Reducto!"_ James' curse caught the broomstick the leader was flying on, which blew to splinters. The Death Eater riding it could do nothing but free-fall towards his death.

"Hold on!" Sirius yelled, and dove towards the ground again. The bike bucked as its wheels met the road, but didn't fall, and Sirius took off across the twisting streets, hoping to lose the Death Eaters amongst the city buildings.

It seemed Sirius' plan had succeeded, at least for the moment, but luck was not to be with the two boys that night. After riding past a few more blocks, they suddenly heard the sound of sirens and James looked around and groaned. It seemed that they'd managed to lose their first few pursuers, only to have them replaced by another: The muggle police. "Great," James muttered. "Lily's going to kill me…"

Fifteen minutes later, with some other close calls with the Death Eaters who were still after them, Sirius still hadn't managed to shake off the police. The only way would be to take flight, but both James and Sirius were reluctant to do magic in front of muggles, unless they absolutely had no other choice. Sirius made a sharp turn around a corner, only to come face to face with a towering brick wall. They'd come to a dead end, and the only way out was blocked by the police car.

James sighed as two police men exited their vehicle with some difficulty due to the narrowness of the alley. His sigh was replaced with a smirk which was echoed by Sirius, however, when one of the police men – a quite fat one – managed to tear buttons off his shirt as he dragged himself along the wall, finishing his rather inelegant approach by snapping of the wing mirror of the car with his backside, becoming stuck.

"Get off the bike!" He bellowed, flushing angrily, and James and Sirius obeyed, watching with badly held back amusement as the police man finally managed to pull free. "No helmet!" He continued yelling, pointing from one to the other. "Exceeding the speed limit by-by a considerable amount!" He was so angry he was practically stuttering. "Failure to stop for the police!"

"We'd have loved to stop for a chat," James rolled his eyes. "Only we were trying – "

"Don't you get smart – you two are in a heap of trouble," the other officer snarled. "Names!"

James and Sirius exchanged looks. "Names?" Sirius repeated innocently. "Er – well, let's see. There's Wilberforce…Bathsheba…Elvendork…"

"And what's nice about that one is, you can use it for a boy _OR _a girl," James quipped, inwardly wondering what Lily would say if James came home and insisted on that name for their eventual first-born.

The policeman spluttered with rage, and Sirius' eyes widened in mock-regret. "Oh, _our _names, did you mean? You should've said!" Sirius grinned widely at him. "This here is James Potter, and I'm Sirius Black!"

"Things'll be seriously black for you in a minute, you cheeky little – "

However, James and Sirius stopped paying attention when they heard the unmistakable whooshing sound of approaching broomsticks from afar. Instead, they stared past the police and their car, eyes narrowed and alert as they stared into the dark opening of the alley. As one, they reached into their back pockets and pulled out their wands.

"Drumsticks?" The policeman jeered, unaware of the impending danger. "Right pair of jokers, aren't you? Right, we're arresting you on a charge of – "

"_WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" James_ and Sirius yelled as one, pointing their wands at the police car and cutting short the policeman's statement.

The policemen turned around, staggering backwards as they caught sight of the Death Eaters flying up the alley on their broomsticks. The two former Gryffindors flicked their wands at the police car which reared up on its back wheels, slightly suspended in the air.

The fat policeman sat down on his butt in shocked surprise, and his colleague tripped over his legs, ending up on top of him. The Death Eaters had no chance to stop or get out of the way of the floating vehicle._ Flump – bang - crunch –_ they slammed into the car, and fell, unconscious unto the ground, the broken pieces of their broomsticks clattering down around them.

James and Sirius wasted no time in getting back onto their motorbike and starting the engine: There was no longer any use hiding the fact they were magical – the police had seen the Death Eaters on flying broomsticks, so the Obliviator Squad would have to get involved anyway.

"Thanks very much!" Sirius called as both the policemen turned around to look at them. "We owe you one!"

"Yeah, nice meeting you!" James agreed with a wink. "And don't forget: Elvendork! It's unisex!"

The car suddenly fell back onto the ground with an earth-shaking crash, and the two policemen threw their arms around each other in fright. Sirius grinned and made the motorcycle rear, before rising up into the air in front of the policemen's disbelieving eyes, zooming off into the night.

As soon as they were at an appropriate height, James sent off a Patronus with a message to Dumbledore, telling him about the attack on the muggle house, the Death Eaters and where to find them, as well as asking him to contact the Ministry so appropriate action could be made regarding the two policemen's sudden knowledge of magic.

"That was exhilarating!" Sirius yelled at James once it was sent off.

"Dangerous too!" James answered, already fearing Lily's response. His adrenaline from the attack was wearing off and he was slowly coming down from the high caused by the confrontation with the muggle police.

"But you can't deny it was invigorating!" Sirius enthused. "Our first Death Eater encounter!"

"Yeah…" James muttered, his stomach churning as he realized he had killed someone today, albeit indirectly. "But I have a feeling the next one isn't going to be as easy…"

* * *

**27 July**

Peter sighed, tapping his fingers against the counter of the store impatiently as Samantha ran back and forth with boxes and records. "Aren't you going to be finished soon?" He asked, knowing he was whining, but he couldn't help it! He was so bored!

Samantha had been planning and setting up her store for days now, and she still wasn't done. The upper floor – their apartment – was thankfully set up, but it didn't matter how much time Samantha spent on the store itself: She never seemed to be pleased and constantly redid everything whenever Peter thought she was finally finished.

"No," Samantha answered. "Can't you help me? It might go quicker."

"I have," Peter said sullenly. "But whenever I do something in here you blow your top because it's in the wrong place or something."

"I don't blow my top!" Samantha protested. "Okay, I might get a little annoyed but this place has been my dream for so long…"

"Yeah, you've said," Peter grumbled, standing up and ignoring Samantha's frown. "I'm sorry, I'm just really tired of this."

"Well, you agreed to co-run it," Samantha said. "Life can't be fun all the time and work rarely is."

Peter held back a snappy retort and sighed. "Well, you think so."

"At the moment, but I'm certain I'll have my bad days too," Samantha pointed out. "Look, you're right," she sighed. "This is your store too. Is there anything special you want to do with it? Anything you want to put at a certain place? I'm open for ideas – I know I've been deciding everything so far and I'm sorry."

Peter's shoulders slumped. This wasn't what he'd meant – he didn't want to decide anything! The only reason for opening his mouth was because he wanted to do something else. To be honest, he was completely disinterested. "No," he said. "It's okay. Your ideas are better."

Samantha frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Peter said. "I don't want to screw up your vision about what this place should look like."

Samantha bit her lip. "Alright then…if you change your mind – "

" – I'll let you know," Peter finished, forcing up a smile he hoped looked sincere. As Samantha turned back to her work, Peter dropped back into his seat. It wasn't just the store, he realized with a sinking heart: He was beginning to tire of Samantha too.

* * *

Sirius let out a whoop of joy.

"What is it?" Mandy, who had opted to stay with Sirius at his apartment rather than with her sister in America this summer.

"I got accepted into the Auror Academy," Sirius revealed, beaming at Mandy. "Well, preliminary, anyway. The letter says I and the other applicants who've been accepted have to pass a severe round of testing to solidify our place."

"When is that?"

"It goes on for two days, starting the fifth of August."

"That's really soon," Mandy said, surprised.

"Yeah. They want my response no later than the 1st."

"Are you going to floo James?" Mandy wondered. "See if he got in?"

Sirius snorted. "Of course he did. We had the same amount of NEWTs, albeit in slightly different subjects. But I should floo him anyway. See if Lily has let him off the couch yet." He smirked. Needless to say, Lily had not been pleased with his and James' escapade to Bristol, not to mention the encounter with the muggle police. The only reason she hadn't hexed them both was because of the Death Eaters. But, as she had pointed out, they wouldn't have been in that situation if they hadn't flown to Bristol in the first place.

Obviously, she couldn't do anything to Sirius, since he didn't live at Godric's Hollow, but James had had his very first experience on the couch as a married man that night. And it was probably not the last, Sirius mused.

* * *

"James!" Lily yelled from the living room and James dropped the letters he was reading. "Sirius is in the floo!"

"Oh, thank Merlin!" James said, walking into the living room and sticking his head into the fireplace. "I don't know what to do!"

Sirius smirked. "Lily's still not letting up, eh?"

"It's not about that!" James flushed. "But just so you know, yes, she has!"

Sirius smirk disappeared. "Then what? You got in, didn't you?"

"Of course I got in!" James said, frustrated. "But I've gotten several other letters as well." He bit his lip. "Quidditch offers."

Sirius jerked back in shock. "I thought you turned them down?"

"I did," James moaned. "But it appears they're still interested anyway."

"Are _you?"_ Sirius asked calmly. The Auror-corps wasn't as an attractive job-offer if James weren't there to share it with him – that didn't mean he'd changed his mind about joining, of course. "Still interested, I mean?"

"I don't know," James admitted. "When I turned them down the first time, I was so sure I wouldn't change my mind. But then again, I didn't believe I'd get any more offers. I thought that was it. But it seems I was wrong, and having the offers in front of me _again_...it's making me doubt."

"Well, let's hear the offers then," Sirius asked.

"The same as last time, but they're offering even more money. And then there's a couple new offers thrown in here as well, from _Pride of Portree_ and _Wimbourne Wasps."_

"And are they more interesting than the other offers?"

"No." James sighed. "I want to join the Aurors, I do. It's just...having the Quidditch league interested enough to send _repeated _offers...it's quite flattering."

"And makes you wonder, doesn't it?" Sirius said knowingly. "If they really want you that badly, then you clearly have a future in it if you want."

"Yeah... It's not just about turning them down. It's about throwing my talent away..."

"Except you're not throwing it away," Sirius pointed out. "It will always be there; you can always fly, and play Quidditch – only not on a professional level."

"True," James agreed, pursing his lips in thought.

"Well, I can't make up your mind for you," Sirius said, cocking his head.

"I know."

"Have you discussed it with Lily?" Sirius asked.

"She just says to follow my heart," James rolled his eyes. "But that's another thing: I'm married. Quidditch would mean travelling...a _lot_. Not like that's a problem for a wizard, but I'd rather spend my nights at home, not in some tent or wizarding motel somewhere. And with the war...I said when I was approached last time, it didn't feel right to play Quidditch when Voldemort is out there. And now I'm in the Order..."

Suddenly, James felt quite ridiculous for agonizing over this. He'd made up his mind once; he wasn't going to change it. Quidditch was fun, he was good at it –_ great _at it – but compared to the Aurors, there wasn't even a contest.

"Thanks, Padfoot," he said absently, closing the floo connection.

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed into darkness. "You forgot to say what you chose! Prongs!"

No answer.

Sirius pulled his head out of the fire and rolled his eyes. "Typical."

* * *

**5 August**

"You're not having second thoughts, are you?" Sirius asked as they waited within the Auror Headquarters: Their letters once they'd both accepted the preliminary position had stated someone would meet them there at one o'clock. It was now ten past, and the other recruits in the room were beginning to look restless. A few of them had even left.

"No," James said, determined. "No more hesitation, no more second-guessing myself. This is what I chose, and I have no regrets."

"Glad to hear it," a gruff voice from behind them said and James and Sirius spun around, wands outstretched. Most of the other people in the room had just jumped in shock.

"Good reflexes," Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody grunted, giving them an approving nod. "That might save your life someday. The rest of you lot: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

More jumps, but James and Sirius only rolled their eyes.

"Right. If you don't know who I am, I'm not going to bother telling you, and you can leave. If you can't recognise the Ministry's most famous Auror – or infamous, to some – you have no business here."

James and Sirius grinned between themselves.

"Everyone, get over here and put your hand on this," Mad-Eye said, pulling out a lengthy rope from his pocket and everyone scrambled over to comply.

"Portkey?" James questioned, one of the few not to put his hand on the rope immediately. "Where will it take us?"

Mad-Eye grinned widely, the smile looking quite scary on his scarred face. "Glad someone asked, rather than obey my orders like friggin' sheep." He glared at the majority of the group, who looked sufficiently cowed. Mad-Eye snorted. "And this is the future pride and joy of the Auror-corporation? Stand straight!" He barked at them. "Be alert! Don't forget your surroundings! Mark my words; there is always _someone _out to get you."

"Mr. Moody?" One of the other recruits (who Sirius recognized as a former Ravenclaw) asked, laughing nervously, eyes flickering around. "Even here? We're at the Ministry."

Mad-Eye's one good eye narrowed. "_Especially _here," he said. "You'd be surprised at the evil lurking inside these walls. And call me Mr. Moody again, and I'll make sure you meet a bloody death in the field if you get that far. From the look of you, I doubt it." The former Ravenclaw gulped fearfully.

"To answer Potter's question: Yes, it's a portkey, and it goes to a place the Aurors use as a testing and training field. You'll be spending today, tonight and tomorrow there – don't expect much sleep," Moody smirked. "We'll be testing you around the clock, and we can throw you out and mark you as 'failed' without a moment's notice, for _whatever_ reason. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"And except for Potter and Black, _none_ of you have managed to impress me so far. And you _all_ have much to learn. _Everyone _here accepted that I am me and not an impostor at face value. No one thought to check if I'm under any spells, or even asked a security question. How do you really know this is a portkey to the good guys, or that it's even a portkey at all?"

Sirius pulled out his wand again and pointed it at the portkey, mumbling an identification spell under his breath. "Well, it's a portkey anyway. Can't tell if it leads where you said it would, though."

"Glad to see someone's listening to what I say," Mad-Eye said gruffly. "Good work, Black."

"Suck up," someone from the crowd hissed. Without looking, Mad-Eye sent off a spell and a yelp was heard. "Consider yourself failed. Get out of here."

A red-faced boy slowly shuffled out the door.

"Right. Any other questions?" Moody asked and when no one said anything, he held out the rope again. "Alright then, grab on, and let's go!"

James and Sirius grabbed the rope, watching as Moody tapped it with his wand. They both felt a tug in their navel – a sure sign of portkey travel – and they were off.

* * *

_**Published: **__21/04 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

_- __Tranan_ is an actual tavern in Stockholm. I've never been there, but it was founded way before the year this story takes place so it fits, time wise, at least.  
- With the Veritaserum and the difficulties Regulus has getting straight answers from Wennermark, I wanted to show it's not a perfect solution: You need to ask exactly the right kind of question, formulated in a very specific way, because you'll get very specific answers to what you ask.  
- The scene between Sirius, James and the police, and the one leading up to it, with the t-shirts, is based on JK Rowling's short Harry Potter prequel. If you haven't read it, the link is on my profile page. If you are interested in more 'behind the scenes of Roads Travelled' material...or rather, what lies beyond/what goes on in my thoughts, go to my LiveJournal. Again, the link can be found on my profile page.


	5. Testing

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

"Alright you lazy bunch of trolls!" Moody yelled the moment they hit the ground from the portkey travel, only half of them standing. "The afternoon is going to be easy for you. All you need to do is take a quill and a parchment with questions at the table over there," he pointed at a table set up on the side of the meadow they'd arrived in, "and fill it out. There are no right or wrong answers, and don't try to pick the answer you think we want to hear: The parchment has been spelled against it."

"After that, head to one of the red tents set up around here. Inside, there are Aurors who will be interviewing you. When you're done, go to the large green tent – another Auror will give you a list of spells we expect you to already know, or learn before dinner. Dinner's served at five sharp in the brown tent. At six o'clock, we'll be calling out the names of those who have passed into the next round of testing. Those who haven't will be given a portkey home. Normally, that's a third of you lot."

Nervous looks were passed around the eighty or so recruits.

"But it's your lucky day!" Moody said with a smirk. "Because of the ongoing war, the higher ups have decided the Aurors have to recruit twice the amount than usual. That means we'll only be failing fifty of you instead of the usual sixty-five."

Only thirty of them would pass, Sirius realized. The majority of the eighty recruits would be gone by this time tomorrow.

"Further instructions will be announced after the first group of failures have been returned to the Ministry and their mommies," Mad-Eye continued. "Now get to it!"

The group of recruits scrambled over to the table to grab a parchment and quill. Sirius and James exchanged a look, not particularly looking forward to elbowing their way through that crowd. James shrugged. "Accio quill and parchment!" A black quill and a parchment with questions came zooming towards them, and Sirius was quick to follow James example. Finding a place under a shaded tree, the two friends began the tedious task of filling out the long roll of parchments.

_1. You're in the middle of battle and your partner has been felled. What is your likely action?_

_A) Try to resuscitate him/her  
__B) Rush towards the guilty attacker to avenge your friend  
__C) Put up a shield around both of you  
D) You freeze/go into shock  
E) Try to defend him/her and hold off the people attacking  
F) Grab him/her and pull him away from the battle  
G) Continue attacking on your own; it's useless to defend someone unconscious/dead_

_2. In your opinion, what is the number one rule?_

_A) Constant vigilance  
B) Don't die  
C) Defense is the best offense  
D) Offense is the best defense  
E) Trust your colleagues  
F) Trust yourself  
G) Die with honour_

_3. You and your partner have been captured by Death Eaters. They will let one of you live. What is your response?_

_A) "I want to live. Kill my partner."  
B) "Let my partner live"  
C) "Go to hell" or a variation thereof  
D) You stay silent  
E) You ask your partner to decide  
__F) "I'll join you if you let him/her go"  
G) You try to strike another bargain_

_4..._

And on and on it went, all the way down to question 50, each one different: One could be about blackmail, the other about family and favourite spells and potions. When Sirius and James finally finished, both their hands were cramping badly.

Entering one of the red tents, James and Sirius saw the inside had been set up with several cubicles with privacy bubbles around each. Parting ways, they each found a cubicle and sat down, handing their parchment to the Auror sitting there.

James smiled at Alice Longbottom, who smiled back, accepting his answer sheet. "James. I'm happy to see you. However, don't expect me to go easy on you just because we're both in the Order."

"I wouldn't dream of it," James answered and Alice nodded, pleased.

"Good." What followed next wasn't so much an interview as it was an interrogation. Alice went over all the answers on his question sheet, wanting motivations for each one. When that was done, she asked several questions about his life so far, what his plans were, what he thought about this and that Ministry policy, and of course, demanding explanations for every answer he gave. Some questions left James completely stumped, some were trick-questions and through the entire interview, Alice didn't move a muscle – her face was impossible to read.

Never before had James and Sirius' been so glad for dinner – Sirius interviewer had been Rufus Scrimgeour, an experienced Auror who'd been ruthless in his meeting with Sirius, knowing exactly which buttons to push. While conversing over dinner, James and Sirius realized the Aurors must have detailed knowledge about all the recruits' lives and experiences, or they wouldn't have been as effective in their questioning.

At six o'clock, both James and Sirius were relieved to hear they'd passed into the next round, neither of them as self-assured they'd been when they first arrived regarding their chances.

"Congratulations, all those of you who have passed," Alice Longbottom said. "Now begins the hard part. There are fifty-four of you left, and we'll be splitting you up into groups of six according to alphabetic order. Once you've been assigned a group, go outside and find the Auror holding your group number. Group one: Carl Anderson, Emma Ackerly, Sirius Black, Cecilia Clay, Jack Daniels, Peter Dwight..."

"...Group six: Georgina Nolan, Finn Northam, Emily Olaesson, Sheila Pepper, James Potter, Tomas Proudfoot. Group seven..."

James stood up along with the other five and left the tent, quickly finding Frank Longbottom who was holding up a sign with their number on it. "Hi, everyone. For those of you who don't know me, my name's Frank Longbottom and I'm the Auror in charge of this group. If you have any questions, you come find me, not another Auror."

"Um...Auror Longbottom, sir?" One of the girls said hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"What if we don't get along with our teammates? Or what if they do something wrong, and that reflects badly on my own performance?"

"You won't always get to work with people you like, Sheila," Frank said. "Which means you will have to be able to work with those you may not get along with in real life. If you're going to become a good Auror, you have to be able to stay professional, to keep your head cool regardless of personal feelings. There is no 'I' in team, and this is why we split you into groups, to see how you interact with other people."

Sheila nodded.

"Right. Your first assignment is sort of a treasure hunt. We've been hiding objects in the forest – your group's mission is to find as many of them as possible and bring them back here, as well as disable any curses, hexes or dangerous spells that may be on them. You have one hour, no more, no less. You have to work together to reach some of the items, and I want a list on the spells you find on them. Oh, and only grab the blue objects, which is your team colour. Objects in another colour are for the other teams. Go!"

* * *

**6 August**

Sirius stared at the cauldrons in front of him tiredly. The Auror recruits had been up all night being tested before the group assignments were done.

After the 'treasure hunt,' the next mission had been to follow an Auror to an undisclosed location without being heard or seen. They'd almost made it when Cecilia accidentally stumbled and was discovered, blowing their cover.

Following that, their mission was to rescue an Auror from a building guarded by Death Eaters (Aurors in disguise). That mission was followed by a 'hide and seek' assignment: To find and capture as many Aurors hiding in the forest as possible. Finally, under the light from the rising sun, the members had been pitted against each other in a mock duel.

After breakfast, Moody had called out the names of those who had passed into the final round of testing – the individual assessment of their skill. From his group, only he and Emma passed. In James' group, he, Georgina Nolan and Tomas Proudfoot had been cleared. In total, thirteen more people had been sent home, leaving forty-one. Eleven more would be eliminated before the final announcement of who had gotten accepted as an Auror trainee.

"Well?" Moody asked gruffly.

"The first cauldron contains Amortentia, the third is Felix Felicis," Sirius said. "I'm unsure of the second one, but I'm pretty sure it's some sort of mind or memory potion."

"And cauldron four and five?"

"Number four is Veritaserum, number five holds Draught of the Living Death."

"Good." Moody gave him an approving glance. "How did you know the difference between cauldron four and five?"

"Well, both Veritaserum and Draught of the Living Death are clear as water, but Veritaserum is also odourless."

"Excellent. And the second cauldron...you said something to do with mind or memory?"

"Yes, but I only knew that because I saw the Jobberknoll feathers sticking up," Sirius admitted. "I have no idea whether it's a forgetfulness potion or the opposite, or even another truth serum."

Moody's eyes swivelled in his socket. "Well, four and half out of five isn't bad. And for your information, cauldron two contains the forgetfulness potion."

Sirius nodded.

"Good work, Black. I'm impressed by your performance so far."

"Thank you," Sirius grinned.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Moody suddenly yelled and Sirius' eyes widened, barely managing to get out of the spell's way.

"_Stupefy!"_ He sent back, having a feeling he had just entered another round of testing.

"_Protego! Impedimenta! Incarcerous!"_

Sirius blocked the protego and impedimenta but didn't manage to avoid the ropes from Moody's incarcerating spell completely, and stumbled. _"Avis!"_ He yelled, the birds flying out of his wand distracting the Auror enough to get free. Sending off several more spells in succession, all silent, Sirius ducked Moody's return fire. _"Accio eye!"_ He yelled, pointing his wand at Moody's face.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ Moody yelled and Sirius' eyes got comically large and he quickly conjured up a wooden shield to intercept the red curse. Wait...red?

Moody lowered his wand, grinning at Sirius. "Excellent."

Sirius spluttered. "Y-you just..."

"Sent a _'stupefy'_ at you, which you blocked?" Moody asked calmly. "Yes."

"But you said – "

" – The killing curse?" Moody tutted. "Really, Black. I would have thought you'd have learned by now it's not the words that make a spell work. It's the intent. Since my intent wasn't to kill you, I didn't. I cast a silent '_Stupefy'_ at the same time as I yelled out _'Avada Kedavra'_ for you to hear. I had to know how you'd react to the most Unforgivable, and the only way to do that, was to make you believe I was actually casting it."

He picked up his magical eye from the ground. "Accio-ing this, by the way? Ingenious. You managed to shock me, lad, and not many can do that. And you made me realise I should get it spell resistant." Mad-Eye popped it back into its socket. "Good work, sonny," he said, walking past a still rather stunned Sirius and patted him on the shoulder. "Good work."

* * *

"Congratulations," Mad-Eye Moody said, staring at the thirty people whose names had just been called, James and Sirius included. "You are the hope of the Wizarding World. Let's hope your future is longer than it ended up being for most of the trainees I've had the _pleasure _of teaching."

About half of the new Aurour trainees exchanged anxious looks. "If you thought this was a way to gain glory, and the rounds of testing you just went through didn't dissuade you of that notion, let me beat that idea out of your head right now. Britain is at war."

Frank stepped forward. "While you may be Auror trainees now, that doesn't mean you'll end up as a full-fledged Auror. At least five of you will quit. A lot of you will die. The person sitting next to you may not be there tomorrow. That we're at war is an understatement. The newspapers don't report everything, and they often tone down the harshness of the reality will live in, or embellish it. Don't fool yourself into thinking this is a game, or just 'a job to earn me money.' It isn't."

"Your actions can save lives," Alice stepped into, taking over from her husband's speech. "They can also destroy them. You are now not only responsible for your own skin, but also that of your fellow Aurors, and especially the lives of the people in Britain, wizarding _and _muggle. From now on, you will be facing reality. And it's going to be grim, dark and bloody."

"Your first day at work is on the fourth of September," Moody spoke up again. "We expect to see you at the Ministry's Auror Headquarters at eight o'clock sharp, alert and ready. For the rest of the summer, practice your spellwork, on ducking and on aiming. Work on your physical prowess. A battle or duel can go on for a long time, and if you tire, you make mistakes. Mistakes get you killed." He paused, looking out over the assembly.

"Welcome to the Auror Academy."

* * *

**8 August**

"I've been called to an interview at St. Mungo's," Buffy revealed happily, reading the letter an owl had just delivered. "It says while my grades didn't meet the normal standard for a Healer Apprenticeship, they want to meet me in person before they make a final judgement. Apparently, several of the professors at Hogwarts have sent letters of recommendation for me."

Remus just grunted in answer.

"Oh, you got letters too!" Buffy exclaimed, noticing the parchments Remus was reading. "What do they say?"

"Well, let's see..." Remus began dryly. "_Mr. Lupin, thank you for your application but we have no need of your service at this time._ Let me count...hmm...yes, one, two, three, four, five, six, _seven _rejection letters. Yay for me!"

Buffy felt a pang in her stomach, hating she could do nothing than offer empty condolences and try and remain positive. She hadn't really believed – wanted to believe – Remus future was as bleak as he'd made it out to be. She had hoped it had just been his pessimism, but it seemed that was not the case.

"Well, what about these two?" Buffy said, holding up two letters and brightening. "They want to meet you in person for an interview. They're not all rejections."

Remus sour demeanour lightened some. "Yeah...hopefully, at least one of them will give me a chance."

"How could they not?" Buffy wondered. "Your grades are exemplary, as are everything else."

"Except for the fact that I've got a furry little problem," Remus said dryly.

"Yes, there is that," Buffy admitted. "But since these two want to speak with you, they are obviously okay with it. Not everyone in the Wizarding World are prejudiced idiots."

"Thank Merlin for small favours, I suppose," Remus said, for the first time hopeful things would go his way for once. The bad luck had to end sometime, right?

* * *

**10 August**

"You come highly recommended," Healer Jones, the person in charge of interviewing the Healer candidates said. "That is a large plus in your favour, but I'm going to be honest with you Buffy. Your NEWT results worry me."

Buffy opened her mouth to speak, but Healer Jones held up a hand to stop her. "Headmaster Dumbledore explained there were extreme circumstances that explain that, and he also mentioned that he was very impressed by your quick ability to learn. My response to your application will therefore depend on how you do in this interview."

Buffy nodded in understanding.

"So, Buffy. What made you decide to become a Healer?"

"I always thought I'd be doing something akin to an Auror," Buffy said. "Because I always knew I wanted to help people, do something worthwhile." Buffy paused. "With the war out there, there are a lot of people who are going to be in need of healing."

"If not for the war, would you still want to be a Healer?" Jones asked, and Buffy shrugged.

"I honestly can't say," she admitted. "I think so, though, or at least something close to it, like a counsellor, maybe?"

Healer Jones nodded. "And do you think you can keep up with the other apprentices, if we decide to take you on? There are a lot to learn...?"

"I'm not all that good with books," Buffy sheepishly said. "Not all the time, anyway. But I'm a fast learner when it's about something that interests me, or if I can see something being done with my own eyes, or actually try it. I'm more of a practical person than theoretical. More 'hands on' so to speak. And I'm good with people."

Jones scribbled something down on a piece of paper. "I see. And do you know what area of Healing you want to specialise in?"

"I'm not sure," Buffy said, "but I think creature-induced injuries, or spell damage."

"Why?" Healer Jones asked calmly.

"Death Eaters do a lot of damage," Buffy answered. "Curses, jinxes and hexes do a lot of damage. I want to help people suffering from that, and I think I'd be a lot better at it than say, for example, Potion and Plant poisoning."

"And your reasons for wanting to work with creature-induced injuries?"

"They're personal," Buffy said bluntly. "But let's just say that's something I really burn for, even more than fixing spell damage."

Healer Jones let an eyebrow rise at that, but didn't push for further details. "Hypothetically, let's say two people come into the hospital. One is a small girl, five years old, and one is an adult, fifty years old. The chance of survival for the girl is eighty percent lower than that of the adult. Who do you try to save?"

"The girl," Buffy said quickly. "I'd try to save the girl anyway."

"Even if it means you might lose them both?"

Buffy smiled humourlessly. "What can I say? I'm probably more emotional than logical, a lot of the time. And between a child and an adult..." he grimaced. "I'd act instinctively in that case. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Jones assured her. "But aren't you worried you will get too emotionally attached to your patients? Your answer to my hypothetic question indicates that."

"Sure, but doesn't everyone?" Buffy asked. "In jobs like these, I think it's impossible to stay completely objective, to keep a cool head all the time. If you do that, can you honestly say you actually care about your patients? That you want to help them? And want the best for them? And if a Healer doesn't care, then he should change occupation."

"True," Healer Jones conceded, making another note on her paper. "How about this hypothesis: A patient is very ill, and in a lot of pain. He asks you to help him die. What is your response?"

"I-I can't say," Buffy stammered. "I haven't been in that situation. I-I don't know. Is he dying anyway?"

"His chances don't look very good, but he may yet live," Jones responded.

Buffy bit her lip. "I don't know. I'm sorry. I wouldn't want him to suffer, but to actually end his life? I don't know."

Jones nodded. "What would you say are your three main characteristics?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Umm...stubbornness, loyalty, and...beating the odds," Buffy finished, remembering many seemingly hopeless situations she'd ended up in during her course as a Slayer.

"Alright." Healer Jones stood up. "I think I have the answers I need. Congratulations, you've passed."

Buffy blinked. "I passed?" She shook her head in confusion. "Wait...that's it?"

"Do you want there to be more?" The Healer asked, amused.

"No!" Buffy exclaimed. "I mean...no. That's okay. Uhh...thank you, I guess?"

"Buffy, this interview wasn't so much as a 'test' as it was an assessment of your character, and you did very well," Healer Jones assured. "I think you'll fit in here just fine. Maybe normally, we wouldn't have accepted you, but there's a war going on and more victims arrive every day. We need more hands than we usually would, and like I said, you come recommended." She handed Buffy a list. "This is a list of books I want you to read before your first day at work, which is September four. I'll see you in my office at eight o'clock. If you want to spend some time with the other recruits before that time, everyone will gather for dinner on Saturday, at five o'clock."

"I'll be there," Buffy promised. "Thank you so much for this chance. I promise I won't let you down!"

"And again, I have every confidence you'll manage just fine," Jones smiled.

* * *

**12 August**

"Remus Lupin," a voice called and Remus stood up and walked into the office of the witch who had called his name. He was feeling a little nervous, but optimistic – after all, they had asked him to come for an interview, so obviously they must think his furry little problem could be worked around. Also, while not the most interesting job he could think of, at least he'd be surrounded by books all day!

"I'm Lena Page, the person in charge of the staff here at our library. I read your application, and we were very impressed with your NEWT results," the woman said once they'd settled down, going straight to the point.

"Thank you," Remus said humbly, blushing slightly.

"How come you applied here, if I may ask? We might be the biggest library in Britain, but we don't get many applicants, especially not people who have just graduated Hogwarts. Not even Ravenclaws," Lena joked.

Remus shrugged. "I like books, so this seemed like the place for me, I guess."

Lena grinned widely. "That's really all I needed to know. All the learning happens on the job, so to speak, and I'm sure our co-workers can help you out at any confusion. If you could start right away, that would be great – we are always a little short-staffed over the summer.

"Y-you mean I get the job?" Remus asked, incredulous, feeling this was too good to be true...but he wasn't about to look a gift hippogriff in the mouth.

"Of course. Like I said, your NEWTs were exceptional; you were a prefect which proves you're responsible... So unless you have any questions...?"

"Just one," Remus said. "You're fine with the days I need to take off?"

"Sure!" Lena smiled brightly, but then her smile faltered slightly and she stared at him in confusion. "Wait...days off?"

Remus feeling of happiness sank like a stone in the pit of his stomach, and a feeling of dread arose instead. "Because of my...special needs?" Remus hinted. "I mentioned them quite clearly in my letter..."

Lena opened and closed her mouth several times. "I must have missed that part...but I'm sure it will be fine, whatever it is!" She gave him an encouraging look.

"I will need the time around the full moon off," Remus said slowly, looking at Lena for any sign of a reaction.

"...Oh," was all she said, though her face paled noticeably. "Y-you're a-a w-w-"

" – Werewolf," Remus finished when it seemed she wouldn't be able to.

Lena coughed uncomfortably, and quickly grasped her wand lying discarded on the table and Remus' mood worsened from uncomfortable anxiety to terrible, in a matter of seconds. "Eh..." The librarian muttered, her wand not-so-subtly pointing at him. "I-I am sure we have a strict policy against hiring Dark Creatures," she said, voice trembling slightly. "I'm sorry. Thank you for applying, though!" A smile reappeared on her face, but this one looked completely fake, especially as her lips were trembling and she was hadn't blinked since the word 'werewolf' had left his mouth.

Remus grimaced. "I'm sorry for taking up your time," he said, quickly leaving the office and the library.

* * *

"How did it go?" Buffy said without looking away from the mirror as she heard the familiar crack of apparition behind her. "Did you get the job?" She asked after she finished applying her lipstick and turned around.

Remus just shook his head. "No. Apparently, the interviewer had somehow missed the blatant fact stating that I was a werewolf in the letter," he said bitterly. "Needless to say, she was horrified when she found out."

Buffy closed her eyes in regret. Remus had really needed the job, so he would have something to keep him occupied from the gloomy thoughts that were surely running through his mind. Remus had been exposed to one bad event after another, and Buffy wasn't sure how much he could take before he sank so far down into depression he would never get back up again. "I'm so sorry. But you still have one interview left," she comforted. "I'm sure that one will go a lot better."

Remus gave her a small smile, but from the expression on his face, she could tell he was only humouring her. "Of course it will." Looking at her state of dress and make-up, a despondent expression crossed his face. Just this once, he would be selfish: "Do you have to go? Can't you stay? I could use some company...?"

Buffy looked torn. "I can't. I told Marion – Healer Jones – I would go... I'd love to stay, but all the other medi-students will be there, and I don't want to feel left out..."

Remus nodded. "It's fine." He forced up a brave smile. "You should go. Have fun. We see each other every day anyway...go find some new friends."

Buffy grinned and placed a kiss on his cheek, leaving a smear of lipstick. "Oops," she giggled, before she became serious again. "For what it's worth...I am sorry this thing had to be tonight... I'll make it up to you." She spun around, apparating away and leaving Remus alone in the silent cottage.

* * *

**13 August**

"Happy birthday!" Samantha said happily, leaning over to Peter's side of the bed to give him a kiss.

"Thanks," Peter smiled tiredly at his girlfriend.

"Excited for the party tonight?" Samantha asked while getting dressed. "I know I am…it's going to be great to see the others again – the last time all of us gathered together was at James and Lily's wedding and that was weeks ago!"

"Sure," Peter lied, hoping his lack of enthusiasm wasn't showing on his face. To be perfectly honest, he hadn't felt much excitement over anything lately. Preparing the store took up a lot of Samantha's time, and try as he might, Peter only seemed to get in the way which was frustrating to no end.

"Aren't you going to open your gift?" Samantha wondered, nodding towards the wrapped present she had put on the bed.

"Uh…I think I'll wait until tonight and open it with all the others, if that's alright," Peter said, standing up.

"Sure! That's a good idea," Samantha approved and then sighed. "I better get down and run some inventory – I think I'm missing a shipment of records that were supposed to have arrived two days ago…"

Peter's face fell. Again, the store had to come first, and frankly, Peter was tired of it. "But it's Sunday," he whined sulkily. "_And_ my birthday. Can't it wait until tomorrow? And we need to prepare for the party…"

"I know it's your birthday but it can't be helped if we're going to be able to open the store on time," Samantha explained patiently. "And I did most of the preparations last night, after you went to sleep, including the cooking. Don't worry about a thing!" She disappeared down the stairs and Peter stuck out his tongue at her turned back, knowing he was acting rather childish, but not particularly caring at the moment.

"Fine. I'll just sit here and twiddle my thumbs, as usual," he muttered to himself, crossing his arms in a huff.

* * *

"This is a really good cake, Samantha," Mandy gushed and closed her eyes in bliss.

"Thanks," Samantha blushed slightly. "I guess I'm a woman of many talents," she joked.

"And a one track mind," Peter mumbled to himself, thinking about her obsession over the store and still angry over her dismissal this morning.

"What was that, Peter?" Lily asked kindly.

"Nothing. I was just agreeing with Sam, that's all," Peter said, and quickly decided to change the subject. "Hey, didn't you have your interview yesterday, Remus? How did it go?"

From the uncomfortable silence fell over the small apartment, Peter guessed it hadn't gone all that well.

"…Foot. Mouth," Sirius glared at Peter, breaking the awkward mood.

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" Peter defended himself. "You all obviously did – why didn't anyone tell me?"

"It wasn't on purpose, I'm sure," Buffy said. "I flooed Lily about it after I got back from the dinner party, and she must have told James, who obviously told Sirius, who passed it on to Mandy… Did you contact Sam, Mandy?"

"Yes, I told her when I came over to help her out earlier this morning," Mandy answered and everyone turned to look at Samantha who winced, looking contrite.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Peter! It's just that I was so busy with everything, and it completely slipped my mind!"

"It doesn't really matter," Remus had a rather sour smile on his face, an embarrassed flush covering his cheeks. "Really, the less the latest news regarding my misfortune is spread around, the better." He gave Buffy a not-so-hidden glare and the Slayer winced guiltily.

"Sorry."

"Hey, let's stop the trail of this conversation, shall we?" Mandy suggested nervously. "It's Peter's birthday – it should be a happy occasion. Why don't we head to the theatre to watch a movie?"

"Oh, let me pick!" Sirius bounced and down on the sofa, hand in the air.

Peter sighed as an argument over the films currently running in the theatres broke out. It might be his birthday, but he certainly wasn't getting any attention, or a choice in what to do or watch. Not that he had any clue about movies in any case, or any other ideas, but they could at least have the decency to ask him!

* * *

"I'm going to the loo," Peter muttered, standing up from his seat and slipping past his friends, whose eyes were stuck to the big cinematic screen, dropped pieces of popcorn crunching beneath his feet as he walked across the aisle.

Once inside the men's bathroom, Peter splashed some water on his face, before drying it with a paper towel. As he looked up, he let out a startled shriek of surprise as he caught sight of the two men standing behind him.

"W-what do you want?" Peter asked fearfully, turning around to face the two whom he recognized from his days at Hogwarts: Rosier and Avery, two Slytherins who used to hang out with Snape all the time.

"Just to talk," Avery said, holding up his hands in a peaceful gesture.

"It's very nice to see you again, Peter," Rosier almost purred.

"S-stay away from me!" Peter exclaimed, pointing his wand at them with a shaky hand. "Y-you D-Death Eaters!"

Avery rolled his eyes. "Relax, will you, Pettigrew? If we were going to harm you, we would have done it already."

Peter glanced at them warily, noting that neither of their wands were anywhere in sight. "You have a point," he admitted, feeling slightly more confident, but he didn't lower his wand. "You said you wanted to talk. Talk."

"You have been of interest to the Death Eaters for quite some time now," Rosier spoke. "Our Lord has kept an eye on you through most of your time at Hogwarts, in fact. You fascinate him, and it would be an honour if you decided to join his circle of followers."

Peter stared at them incredulously and Avery gave him an amused look. "It might sound unbelievable, but it's true. You do tend to keep your head down, and let your friends run all over you, but that's a black mark against _them_, not you. You can be quite insightful and sneaky when you want to be, and we have sensed your potential."

"Potential?" Peter echoed, his wand arm falling limply to rest against his side as astonishment overrode his need for caution.

"Yes," Rosier said, slowly walking around Peter to stand behind his back, and he leaned down to whisper in his ear, voice seductive, pulling Peter in: "You have a lot of it. Power too, hidden beneath the surface, squished by your own feelings of self-doubt and your so-called friends. You're a survivor, Peter. It's why you became friends with Potter and his cohorts in the first place, so they would protect you. But somewhere along the way, their protection turned into belittling, but you can't see that."

"They smother you," Avery added as a tremble passed through Peter's body, but it was not one of fear – it was one of a desperate yearning to be something more. "Through their constant disregard for your abilities, they suppress your own possibilities for achievement. You deserve so much more, and the Dark Lord can give you that. He can unfold all that concealed power, make you strong and confident."

"Y-you lie," Peter stuttered. "Y-You-Know-Who's promises are false. I'm not stupid enough to fall for them."

"You are prejudiced," Rosier noted. "Understandable, considering it's what you've been manipulated to believe all your life. But the Dark Lord always keeps to his pledges. And, unlike your friends, he _can_ and _will _protect you."

"I used to have a burning need to prove myself, just like you," Avery said. "My father is one of the Dark Lord's closest confidants, and I had a lot to live up to. But when I met the Dark Lord, I was amazed by his sense of justice, his intelligence, and his power. He lets me be myself and I don't have to live up to anyone's expectations other than my own and he helps me rise above them. He never lets me down or dismisses me. He has helped me achieve things I never dreamed possible."

"We are a _family,_ and we believe in a better future, for everyone. As it stands, the world is unfair," Rosier put a gentle hand on Peter's shoulder. "Sometimes, our means are brutal, we admit, but to make people listen, you must first be noticed. And as we are horribly outnumbered, we have no choice but to defend ourselves."

"B-but you cast dark spells," Peter cried out, trying to stop the sudden influx of feelings inside him, all calling for him to take the offer, to leave his old unassuming nature behind and grab the chance of a lifetime. He could be powerful. He could be _great._

"What is dark, really?" Avery mused out loud. "Isn't it more in the eyes of the beholder? So-called 'light' spells can kill a person just as easily as '_Avada Kedavra'_ and less quickly."

"And the m-muggles? W-what have they done to deserve to be killed?" Peter asked, feeling his dedication to the light falter with every word that passed from Avery's and Rosier's lips.

"We don't _want_ to kill them, but sometimes, it is the matter of kill or be killed. The strongest survive; it's how it has always been. But we are not ignorant or prejudiced against muggle life, as some would have you believe, but we want to keep our worlds separate, rather than taint our way of life with the muggles' new ideas. If it continues, sooner or later we will be exposed. What do you think would happen if they found out about the Wizarding World? Remember the witch hunts? They might not have been able to harm us then, but they have grown stronger, and the population bigger. They have built weapons so dangerous it can wipe an entire city out of existence in a matter of seconds."

"And the muggleborns? Don't they have a right to learn magic?"

"Of course they do," Rosier soothed. "But they come into our world with their own ideas of right and wrong and only spread the taint. We shouldn't have to adjust to them; they should have to adjust to us. Why should ancient traditions have to change because of their ridiculous notions? If that could be stopped – maybe by teaching them before coming to Hogwarts, or taking them from their families to be raised with pureblooded families, that could change. Don't you see? We only want to _protect_ the wizarding world."

"Everyone doesn't understand that," Avery said. "This is why the war began, though we see it more as a...revolution. With your help, we could end it quicker, and bring peace to the wizarding world, at last. You would be part of something big, Peter. You would be seen as a symbol of greatness, someone of importance, rather than the pitiful wizard you are today, through no fault of your own, of course."

"Think about it," Rosier breathed, walking back to stand beside Avery again. "Since this is a choice of such a large magnitude, we will give you to the end of the year to decide, but if you have an answer sooner, that would be great."

"W-what will happen if I say no?" Peter asked warily.

Avery shrugged. "Then you'll be obliviated of the knowledge regarding us ever approaching you and we will go our separate ways."

"There is one matter we must deal with before we part for today," Rosier said, pulling out his wand from beneath his robes and Peter jerked back in shock. "It's nothing dangerous, just a spell to block this memory from unwelcome mental intruders – Dumbledore knows how to read your mind."

"And does it a lot, without asking," Avery added, snorting. "Quite rude, really."

"Alright." Peter said, relaxing slightly.

Rosier grinned widely and waved his wand in a complicated pattern over Peter's head. "There. It's done."

"That's it?" Peter looked bemused. "Won't you need a vow or something, to keep me from talking?"

"Well, I suppose you could see it as a test of sorts," Rosier said, cocking his head. "But it's more of a matter of trust. We trust you not to tell anyone, who doesn't already know, about this meeting."

Peter flushed at the praise – he was worthy of trust!

"You should probably go now," Avery prompted. "It is your birthday, is it not?"

Peter nodded.

"Well, happy birthday, Peter," Rosier said, giving the man a short hug. "Don't waste it on anger over your friends' unfair treatment of you. Think of a way to change their opinion instead. That is, think on our offer."

"I will," Peter swore.

"We'll be seeing you," Rosier said, he and Avery retreating into a corner of the bathroom that couldn't be seen from the door.

Peter opened the door and upon stepping outside, he was immediately ambushed by his friends – the movie was over. "Where have you been?" James wanted to know. "The movie finished ages ago!"

"Maybe he accidentally flushed himself down the toilet and needed some time to get back up," Sirius joked and Mandy slapped him on the back.

"Don't be an arse."

The bathroom door swung close, shutting out their voices, and the two Death Eaters exchanged looks of wicked amusement. "Gullible bastard," Avery said, shaking his head in mock-sadness. "Do you know what use the Dark Lord will have of him?"

"To spy on Dumbledore's Order, I suppose," Rosier said, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's waist from behind and pulling him close against him. "Other than that, I have no idea. It's not like he's good for much."

"I almost feel sorry for him," Avery mused out loud, closing his eyes in ecstasy as Rosier placed several teasing kisses against the side of his neck.

"Do you really?" Rosier asked, smirking as a moan of contentment escaped his partner's mouth.

"No," Avery answered, entangling himself from Rosier's embrace with a wide leer. "What do you say we leave this disgusting place for a more...pleasurable pastime?" He let his fingers trail up and down his robes suggestively, pointedly loosening a couple of buttons.

Rosier's eyes darkened with lust, and, grabbing Avery by the arms, he pulled him into a brutal kiss. "I think that's the best idea you've had all day," he panted when they came up for air, voice husky with desire.

* * *

_**Published: **__05/05 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

_- _The line about 'a gift Hippogriff' that Remus says is a wizarding version based on the saying 'don't look a gift horse in the mouth.'


	6. Rain

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**15 August**

Peter was not an idiot, despite what some people believed, and he was not stupid enough to think all he would suffer from was an 'obliviate' if he turned the Death Eaters' offer down. No, if he said no, or let them down in some other way, they would kill him, as simple as that. And Peter had always been a big believer in self-preservation. Still, if he did join the Dark Lord, he wanted it to be more than just because of fear of dying – he was a Gryffindor, after all, and he needed stronger reasons than that.

Another thing that might be a negative mark towards the Death Eaters, was that he didn't buy the crap Rosier had spouted, about them being one big happy family. But really, that didn't really matter all that much to him: Peter knew he was a typical follower, and he was alright with that, just as long as he got the promised share of the power and glory.

He was under no illusions that the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters wouldn't seek to use him, but at least he'd be going into it with his eyes wide open. That way, he could do something about it. With his friends, it was different. He'd been exploited by his friends for so long, it would be impossible to change: He didn't think he'd be able to, even if he tried.

As for the use of dark spells...well, Peter saw that as the least of the problems. The killing curse was actually less evil than some 'light' spells that could bring about the same result. The reason it was an Unforgivable in the first place, was because it was unstoppable once cast, and addicting. But really, if someone was too stupid to duck, wasn't it their own fault...? And he didn't necessarily see the possibility of addiction to the spell as a bad thing.

Whether or not he put his loyalties with the light or the dark, both sides had one thing in common – they both strived for peace and a better world. But Peter didn't think anything would change if the light came out victorious – everything would go back to the way it was, with injustice and prejudice. If the dark won, however...

Peter strongly agreed with their views, as presented by Avery and Rosier, and any of the changes they wanted, could only be beneficial to the wizarding world in the long run. So what if the way they went about it wasn't exactly peaceful? They didn't claim to be of the light, after all. A revolution never comes quietly, and the world _was_ in a desperate need of change...

While he had been given until the end of the year to decide, Peter didn't think he could wait that long to make up his mind. He wouldn't make a hasty decision, but he couldn't remain in the crossroad between two choices for much longer, or he'd go mad. He needed to make a choice, and soon, to get rid of the heavy feeling of pressure in his chest.

* * *

"What is that?" Buffy asked while chewing on an apple, nodding towards the letter Remus was holding in his hands.

Remus cleared his throat a little before speaking, voice bitter. "It's from the Ministry. It seems they have found a family willing to adopt Elizabeth. Some pureblood family named Baddock. All of the papers have already been signed – all they need is my stamp of approval. Elizabeth's new family are_ graciously _allowing us to meet them to say goodbye." The sarcasm was obvious.

"Oh." Buffy lowered the apple from her mouth. "We're going, aren't we?"

"Of course we are." Remus scrunched up the letter. "Let's go."

Buffy blinked. "Wait...you mean now?"

"Apparently," Remus muttered. "I suppose they don't want to give us a chance to come up with an official protest."

* * *

"You must be Remus," the red-headed woman said, painted red lips stretched into a smile. "I am so pleased to meet the man who has given us his sister." She beamed at her husband, who was carrying the small pink bundle that was Elizabeth.

Some of the dread Remus was feeling disappeared at the loving look. Still, there was something not completely genuine about her, or her husband, who mostly seemed bored. "I am Alaina, and this is my husband, Marcus. I promise you, Lisbeth will grow up in a loving home."

"Elizabeth," Remus corrected. "Not Lisbeth."

Alaina's smile faltered slightly, but it soon returned, slightly more sheepish. "Of course it is. _Elizabeth. _Forgive me. It's just all the proceedings have gone so very quickly. I suppose it is just making me slightly forgetful. Don't worry – we will not change her name. Not her second name either. Diana, is it not?"

"Yes," Remus answered, feeling more at ease now: Alaina truly did sound regretful.

"Well, shall we get the papers signed?" Marcus asked, sounding slightly impatient.

Remus and Buffy exchanged looks. "Very well," Remus said, sounding defeated. He knew Elizabeth would go home with this family, whether he wanted her to or not. Fighting against the decisions the Ministry had made regarding his sister before had been useless – this situation was not any different. At least it seemed she would have a loving mother.

"Here you go, dear," Alaina said, handing over a quill and a parchment. After reading through the legal jargon, he placed the tip of the quill on the empty line, but hesitated.

"Is something the matter?" Alaina asked kindly.

Remus took a deep breath. "No." Quickly signing, he handed the parchment and quill back to Alaina, who smiled broadly.

Remus' eyes landed on Elizabeth, still sleeping in Marcus' arms. "Can I hold her?" He asked hoarsely.

"But of course," Alaina said happily. Her husband, Marcus, seemed less pleased, but carefully handed the small child over in any case, and Remus was even more reassured by his gentleness in handling the baby.

Looking down at his sister's peaceful face, Remus smiled sadly.

In the background, he heard Buffy ask Alaina and Marcus several questions:

"What made you decide to adopt Elizabeth?"

"We have tried to get children for a long time now," Alaina answered mournfully. "But nothing seems to work. We've tried everything – potions, exercises... We don't understand why we seem to be cursed with an inability to conceive; all Healers we have been to have assured us we are both in perfect health."

"And you don't have anything against that she's a half-blood?" Buffy asked.

Marcus was the one to answer this time. "We might be pureblood, and since she will be raised as one, she, essentially, will be too, despite her blood. Nurture versus nature, and all that."

"You will raise her as a pureblood?" Buffy asked, slightly worried. What did that mean, really?

"Well, yes," Alaina sounded surprised. "Of course we will. We are purebloods after all, and as our daughter, that means she must act like one too, her unfortunate ancestry notwithstanding."

"Unfortunate?" Remus turned around, eyes cold.

"Well, she can't help where she's from, dear," Alaina explained.

Remus felt furious at her patronising tone. "You won't tell her who she really is? Where she comes from?"

"She will be who we raise her to be," Marcus said, eyes narrowed. "Her origins don't matter."

"In any case, don't you think it will only make her sad to know we are not her real parents?" Alaina asked with a raised eyebrow. "That she's just a half-blood? She does not need that hanging over her shoulders. The best thing would be for her to remain ignorant."

"_Just_ a half-blood?" Remus spat. "If you won't tell her anything, does that mean you won't you let me visit her? Write to her? Or keep me updated, at least!" Remus begged.

"What goes on in Elizabeth's life is no longer any of your concern," Marcus said coldly. "The past remains in the past, and if you disobey, we will get a restraining order, or have you arrested. We don't need a troubled werewolf in our lives to muck it up."

"We should go, I think," Alaina told her husband hastily when she saw Buffy's expression turn into one of utter rage. "We have that tea-party to plan."

"_Tea-party?"_ Buffy stared at the two Baddocks, her anger taken over by incredulity.

"Yes," Marcus nodded to his wife, ignoring Buffy. "Our friends will be happy to know you and Elizabeth survived the hard labor."

Remus' eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "Hard labor?" He repeated in disbelief. _"Your_ hard labor?"

"Well, obviously," Marcus sounded annoyed. "It cannot get out Elizabeth is not really ours. We must think of our reputation, after all. Would you please hand me back _my_ daughter, now?"

Looking down at Elizabeth's face again, Remus felt only despair. What sort of family had he just signed her over to? As if knowing his thoughts, Elizabeth suddenly opened her bright eyes, her tiny mouth stretching into something akin to a smile, and she gurgled happily. It was as if she wanted to tell him 'everything will be alright.'

"How do you expect to pass her off as yours?" Buffy demanded to know. "She won't look like you!"

"Her mother was strawberry-blonde, wasn't she?" Alaina snapped. "And Elizabeth already has hints of that colour in her hair. Considering I'm a red-head, I think we can pass her off as ours just fine. And if not, there are always glamour charms. Now, _hand our daughter back."_

With a notable lump in his throat, Remus did as she asked, his heart wrenching as Elizabeth began to cry loudly, as Alaina grabbed her a lot harder than necessary.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Marcus said sardonically, before leaving the room, ushering his wife with Elizabeth in front of him.

Remus' shoulders slumped in utter defeat.

"She'll be fine," Buffy whispered out loud, saying it to convince Remus as much as herself. "She'll be fine."

* * *

**18 August**

"How did you manage to get NEWTs like these when you, I assume, were exempt from Hogwarts every full moon?" was the first question out of the interviewer's mouth, interrupting Remus' thoughts.

He hadn't really felt like going to this interview, considering it was the full moon tonight. To be completely honest, he hadn't felt like doing much of anything, since he had Elizabeth taken away. But Buffy had convinced him.

And the truth was, Remus needed this job. Anything to give him some sort of income, and anything to take his mind off of the depressing soap opera that was his life lately. Why did everything negative always seem to happen to him?

"Well, I tried to study ahead," Remus answered, clearing his throat to remove some of the hoarseness. "And it wasn't like I got excused from any assignments just because I couldn't attend class."

"Hmm." Jerry, the interviewer mumbled, flicking through a couple of pages lying on his desk. "And if I decide to hire you? Will you need days off here as well?"

"Just the day during and after the full moon. Maybe the one before sometimes, as well, but I would work twice as hard during the rest of the month," Remus assured him.

"I am sorry for calling you here, today," Jerry said regretfully, but Remus got the feeling he was not completely sincere. "You must be so tired. It is the full moon tonight, is it not?"

"Yes, but it is fine," Remus answered, surprised at the interviewer's concern. "I'm grateful you decided to give me this chance, and I really believe I can be an asset to this firm."

"Yes, there are many benefits," Jerry nodded thoughtfully. "Since you have super strength and all that, right? I can see why that would be a definite advantage in a construction company."

Remus expression faltered slightly. There was something in the tone of Jerry's voice that he couldn't put his finger on, but it disturbed him. "I wouldn't say I have _super _strength," he began slowly. "But I am a little stronger than the average human, true..."

"Still, there are many other things," Jerry said. "You must be an expert on building fortified cages and basements, correct?" His tone was definitely mocking now, and Remus wasn't quite sure what to say.

"And of course," Jerry continued, voice filled with disdain, "you can help entertain the other construction workers. They are in _desperate _need of someone who can play fetch."

Remus flushed in embarrassment, fists clenched beneath the table.

"Did you honestly believe that I even considered hiring you for even a second?" Jerry asked scornfully. "Just the fact that I put the interview on the date of a full moon should have been a clue something wasn't quite right. You really are thick, aren't you?"

"Why even bother to ask me to come here in the first place, then?" Remus asked, voice tense.

"Why do you think?" Jerry contemptuously said. "To get some amusement, of course! To set my eye on the stupid _animal _who thought he would ever believe we'd hire something like _it_."

"I'm not an _it_!" Remus cried out, eyes flashing amber with fury.

"Oh, really?" Jerry scoffed. "You don't transform into a raving beast, then? My mistake, I am _so_ very sorry." The sarcasm was obvious, and Remus didn't answer. He just wanted to leave, but for some reason, his legs refused to obey him.

"Do you want me to feel ashamed of myself for ridiculing you?" Jerry sneered. "As if! It is no more than you deserve, and I can't believe Albus Dumbledore ever let a lunatic like you go to Hogwarts, putting all the children there at risk for being attacked by a blood-lusting _monster._"

Finally, Remus stood up, and not saying a word, he left the small office, back straight but face burning in humiliation and anger.

Jerry's derisive laugh followed him all the way out of the building.

* * *

When Remus got home, wet from the rain, the house was empty of Buffy's presence, and Remus didn't know whether to be happy about it or not. He didn't want more of her comfort, which, while well-meant, often made him feel even worse. At the same time, he didn't want to be alone.

His life felt like a constant uphill battle lately – a battle where he struggled to hold on to the pieces of his life that mattered, but always failed: The loss of his father...his mother...his _sister._ He couldn't even get a job. He supposed it was only a matter of time before Buffy left him as well.

As he entered the kitchen, he found a note stuck to the refrigerator:

_Hi!_

_Sorry I'm not there, but Mia (that's one of the new Healer-recruits) flooed and said she and a few others were going to hang out in London tonight. So that's where I am. But don't worry – I will be back before the full moon rises, and tomorrow, we can celebrate your new job! (There's no doubt in my mind that you got it!)_

_Hugs and kisses,_

_Buffy_

Closing his eyes tiredly, all Remus wanted to do was lie down and cry. But he was tired of tears. It felt like he hadn't done anything_ but_ cry lately. He wasn't even sure he had any tears left.

Instead, he laid down on the living room sofa, trying to get some sleep before the full moon rose.

* * *

BOOM! CRASH!

Remus woke up with a jerk as he heard the sound of thunder, and then something breaking. Standing up groggily, he grabbed his wand. Reaching the master bedroom, his shoulder slumped in exhaustion as he saw the source of the noise: The window had been shattered by the large tree usually standing outside – though at the moment, a large part of it was inside, several leaf- and rain-covered branches dangling over the windowsill.

He shuddered from the cold wind and rain that managed to make its way past the wooden limbs, and into the room.

"Damn it," he muttered, and apparated outside, directly beside the large tree, finding the reason for it falling: The trunk had been completely splintered, cracked open. From the lashing rain and the dark clouds, Remus reckoned it had been hit by lightning. His theory was further confirmed as a yellow bolt lit up the dark sky directly above him, followed by another roar of thunder.

Blinking away the raindrops that had gathered on his eyelashes, he flicked his wand, cleaving the tree in two, near the bottom. Another flick, and the upper part of the tree floated away from the window. Lowering his wand, it fell to the ground.

Apparating back into the bedroom, another flick of his wand conjured up several wooden planks, nails and a hammer. He tried to ignore the cold, whipping wind and rain as he hammered on the boards onto the open hole where the window had been.

Finally, he finished and he sagged down onto the floor in relief, ignoring the broken glass. The storm could still be heard, but the noise was dampened. Best of all, the room was now free from both the rain and roaring wind.

Sneezing, Remus noted how cold he was. Glancing at the clock as he pulled off his clothes, he noted it was no use changing into something else – the moonrise was only minutes away.

Walking down into the basement, Remus set up the wards around himself. He absently wondered were Buffy was, but not blaming her for staying in London. Her friends there were surely far better company.

He tensed as he felt the change come upon him. The cold rain had stiffened his limbs, making the transformation even less smooth than usual. He cried out at the pain, enveloping his entire body, and seconds later, Moony stood in his place, amber eyes flashing, saliva dripping onto the floor, snarling.

Snarling, Moony threw himself at the closed door, to no avail. Tiring of the fruitless attempt, the wolf stopped. Instead, aware of all the anger and frustration his human host felt over everything lately, decided to express it in the only way it knew: Glistening teeth were buried viciously in a furry appendage, gnawing at the sensitive flesh, and blood began to flow.

* * *

Buffy felt extremely guilty for staying in London a lot longer than she had told Remus, but in her defence, she had lost track of time. Deciding to check on him before redressing, Buffy undid the protective spells on the basement door and stepped down.

She froze in horror at the sight.

Remus – Moony – was a bloody mess, seemingly unconscious. From the chew marks and tears in his flesh, it seemed that in her absence, the wolf had decided to attack itself.

"No," she moaned out load and sank down on her knees beside the furry head, the elongated snout covered in blood. "I'm so sorry," she told it, knowing Remus couldn't hear her, but she needed to say it anyway. "I should never have left."

An amber eye opened blearily, a whine escaping the animal's throat, ears flickering back and forth. Moony's jaws opened, and he began to chew on an already mutilated paw, despite the pain he obviously felt at the action.

"Don't do that," Buffy reprimanded, voice begging. She carefully grasped the paw in her hands, pulling it away from the sharp, bloodied teeth. The tufted tail rose weakly and thumped against floor in answer. The thin, fur covered tissue had been ripped in several places.

"You have been so stupid," Buffy whispered, while flicking her wand at the lycan, healing the scratches and wounds covering its entire body, to the best of her ability. "_I_ have been so stupid." She bit her lip, feeling responsible for the current state of her boyfriend. She should have known better than to leave him alone on a full moon after all that had happened. "And I guess the interview didn't go well either," she added out loud, conjuring a soft towel and used it to dry off the blood.

When she noticed Moony was shivering, she conjured up a thick blanket, spelling it with a warming charm. Wrapping it around the large body, she curled up beside the werewolf, one hand stroking the furry coat.

Moony nudged her face with his snout in gratitude, before closing his eyes, head resting lightly against Buffy's shoulder.

Outside, the storm raged.

* * *

**21 August**

Regulus swept away some of the wet strands of hair plastered to his face with an impatient brush of his hand. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the doorbell of the gate to the grand mansion, barely visible through the fall of rain and the thick fog that had settled over France during the last few hours. The Dark Lord's expectations on him weighed more heavily every day – he only had a week left of the designated time, and then he had to return to Hogwarts.

After tracking down 'Roberto' in Brazil, he'd traced the book's possible whereabouts to Russia and Germany, but when he got there, the book, unsurprisingly, had already disappeared with someone else.

His latest lead had taken him here, to the home of Philippe de Mort, a French Ministry official, well known in Death Eater circles due to his dabble in the Dark Arts. However, he was not the person Regulus was here to visit, for it was his wife, Monique, he believed held the answers to his latest lead.

"Oui?" A feminine voice said, coming from a direction Regulus was unable to discern, seemingly echoing across all of the large lawn in front of the building.

"Um, je ne parle pas français," Regulus said, trying to remember the little he'd learnt of the language from his parents when he was very small. "Parlez-vouz anglais?" He winced, hoping he hadn't completely botched the grammar.

"Yes," the female voice said. "If you are looking for my husband, or daughter, neither is home at present. Do you wish to leave a message?"

"Actually, I was hoping to speak with Madame Monique de Mort?"

"I am she," the voice, belonging to Madame de Mort said. "Who are you and what can I help you with?"

"My name is Reginald Storm," Regulus lied. "And I am here because I believe you hold some information regarding a book."

A sharp intake of breath could be heard, and to Regulus it was clear she obviously knew something. "Please, may I come inside?" He asked.

There was a short pause, and then, the large gates swung open with a foreboding creak. "Very well," Monique's voice seemed to tremble slightly. "I will be waiting for you in the parlor. It is right beside the foyer; you can't miss it."

Regulus walked briskly across the pathway leading across the grounds to the mansion. As he approached the heavy wooden doors, they slowly swung open, and Regulus slipped inside, grateful for the reprieve from the rain. As he entered the parlor, he came face to face with a dark-haired, blue-eyed woman. "Madame de Mort?"

"Please, call me Monique," Monique said.

"Then I must ask you to call me Reginald," Regulus said, and bent forward to place a lingering kiss on the back of her right hand.

"You said you wished to see me about a book?" Monique asked after pulling her hand back.

"Yes. And not just any book, Madame. I believe you know of which I speak?"

"Yes." Monique sank down onto a chair, sounding tired. "Yes."

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you come across it?"

"Philippe and I were in Berlin on business. We met with the German Ambassador of Magic, and he wanted my husband's backing for an endeavour he wished to introduce to the French Ministry. In an attempt to impress us, he showed us many extraordinary objects, and the book was one of them." A frown crossed her beautiful face. "Something about it spoke to me. Really, I'm not quite sure why – it didn't look like much, and my husband barely noticed it, but out of all the items, the book was the only thing to hold my attention."

"I am embarrassed to say it even crossed my mind to steal it. And I have never done anything immoral or dishonest in all my life, though with Philippe as my husband, sometimes it has been difficult." She smiled bitterly. "However, after we concluded our business, Dietrich – that's the Ambassador – offered us one item each from those he had showed us, as a sign of good will. Philippe chose a beautiful Egyptian sword, and I..."

"You chose the book," Regulus finished knowingly, her story so far agreeing with the information he'd ripped out of Dietrich's head, when he met with him in Germany.

"Oui. Dietrich was not happy with my choice, and tried to convince me to pick something else, but I refused," Monique explained. "And since he had promised we could choose whatever we wanted, there was nothing he could do without offending Philippe and ending their partnership before it could barely begin."

"And where is the book now?" Regulus asked, fingers itching. Instinctively, he could almost sense the goal - he was so close.

Monique looked indecisive for a moment, and then, she pulled out something from inside her robe. "I always try to keep it close to my heart," she whispered, half to Regulus, and half to herself.

Regulus stared. This was it. This was the book the Dark Lord had sent him to find. This was the end of his journey.

The book was of medium size, dressed in a cover of thin black leather. It couldn't consist of more than a couple hundred pages at most. It was old, extremely so, but also in a very good shape which made it difficult to discern its actual age.

"May I?" Regulus held out a hand for the book, and Monique's blue eyes flashed and she clutched the book to her chest possessively.

"You may not," she said coldly, standing up. "I told you about the book, per your request, and I believe it is time for you to leave."

"Please, Madame," Regulus said impatiently. "I am not going to take it from you." That was a lie, of course. It hadn't been his intention to steal it, at first. But from the defensive stance Monique had taken, and the obsessive way she held on to the book, she was obviously not going to hand it over willingly, not even if he offered to pay her. Damn it! He had not gotten this far only to be overcome by a French snob that suddenly reminded Regulus far too much of his cousin Narcissa.

"The book will not leave my hands," Monique said frostily, backing out of the room without taking her eyes of Regulus.

"_Accio book!"_ Regulus tried, but the item didn't even budge from Monique's hands.

Moniques eyes narrowed. "I believe you have overstayed your welcome, Monsieur Storm," she said, before turning on her heal and darting away from the parlor.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Oh, for Merlin's sake," he muttered, and took chase. _"Stupefy! Immobulous! Impedimenta! Imperio!"_

The lady of the manor was clearly more lithe and nimble than Regulus had thought, for she neatly ducked and sidestepped his spells, without even looking to see where they were going to land.

Finally, he managed to corner her upstairs, in what looked to be her husband's office. "This is becoming tiresome," Regulus sighed. "Just give me the book. You don't even have your wand on you, or you would have used it by now."

Instead of answering, Monique scrambled towards the wall, smashing a glass case that was fixed to it, and pulled out the large hunting knife that had resided within, barely ducking Regulus' spell. Using a wooden bookcase that leaned against the wall as cover, she spoke: "I may have forgotten my wand in my bedroom, but that does not mean I am defenceless!"

Regulus pinched his nose in irritation. Honestly. He didn't know why he didn't just end this right here and now. She would be dead long before she could reach him with the knife, even if she threw it, and he could leave. But he had to admit the thought of taking a life did not appeal to him.

Lost in his thoughts, he was too late to react when Monique stood up and ran towards the door in the room that lead to the upper veranda.

"Stupid of you," Regulus muttered to himself. Slightly louder, he said: "Where do you hope to go? You don't have a broom, and it's far too high to jump."

He stepped out onto the large balcony, blinking against the raindrops that splattered against his face, and the thick mist that made it difficult to breathe. Suddenly, he saw a shadow to his right, and he lifted his wand to shout of a curse, but it was too late: With a battle cry, Monique threw herself towards him, knife raised as she pushed him towards the railing. As the large knife slashed him across his collarbone, he dropped the wand at the sudden onslaught of stinging pain, the thin wooden stick disappearing out of sight as it fell down from the balcony, into the darkness.

Enraged, and wounded, Regulus grabbed Monique's both wrists in order to avoid the knife she was doing her damndest to press down towards his jugular. His muscles trembled at the effort – she was a lot stronger than she looked, but she was weakening.

Taking a chance, Regulus used his left hand and remaining strength to twist Monique's wrist harshly: A snapping sound was heard as it broke and blue eyes widened, though she didn't let go of the knife, despite the shock of pain. With another twist, this time of her arm, Regulus turned the knife against its holder...a sharp thrust...and Monique let out a gurgling sound, blood flowing out of her mouth, as the knife entered her chest. Her body slumped downwards, her face buried against Regulus' neck.

She was dead.

Trying to hold back the need to throw up, Regulus used his arms to push away the suddenly heavy body, but the wooden boards were wet and slippery, and in his haste to get away, the corpse fell over the railing, rather than onto the balcony floor. He flinched at the sound it made as it hit the terrace below.

Crawling on his hands and knees, Regulus slowly searched every inch of the balcony until he found the book, which seemed to be completely dry and undamaged from the rain. Sniffing slightly, he stood up on shaky legs and walked inside the large manor, made his way downstairs and outside. Reaching the terrace, he blindly searched for his wand in the darkness, his loud sobs the only sound aside from that of the heavy raindrops.

Finally, he found it, almost completely invisible where it laid beneath Monique's hair. Her eyes were still open, but already glazing over, and from the strange angle of her head, her neck had obviously been broken in the drop from the balcony.

The knife was still buried in her chest, blood still seeping from the wound, spreading across the front of Monique's crème-coloured robes and onto the grey cement of the terrace.

Reaching down with trembling hands, Regulus grabbed his wand, his fingers temporarily getting tangled in the untidy strands of her hair, now covered in dirt.

The sudden creaking noise of the gate swinging open, perceptible even through the rain, had Regulus scramble into a standing position. Quickly, he apparated away, a loud 'crack' from the sound of unfocused apparition echoing across the grounds and reaching the ears of Philippe de Mort and his House-Elf, returning from a stressful day at the French Ministry of Magic.

* * *

"My Lord?" Lucius Malfoy said, bowing to the dark figure on the throne.

"Did I not make it perfectly clear to you that I did not wish to be disturbed?" Voldemort hissed.

Lucius gulped. "Yes, my Lord…but…but Regulus Black is here. He says it's important."

Voldemort's eyes flashed. Important…? Could it be…?

"Send him in immediately," he commanded, and Lucius bowed once more before walking outside. There was a harsh mumble of voices, and then, Regulus stepped inside, wet and shivering, dried tear tracks covering his face.

Voldemort gave him a disgusted look, watching as water, blood and dirt dripped all over the previously clean stone floor.

Regulus flushed, perhaps sensing his displeasure, because he made a hasty bow. "I'm sorry for my atrocious appearance, my Lord…but it's raining, and – "

" - Have you never heard of drying charms?" The Dark Lord interrupted, tapping his fingers against his armrest on the chair impatiently, and Regulus' flush deepened.

"I'm sorry, my Lord," he said, sounding miserable. "It won't happen again."

Voldemort's thin lips became even thinner. _"CRUCIO!"_

Regulus dropped to the floor, screaming and writhing in pain, until Voldemort finally lifted the curse. "I know it won't," Voldemort hissed. "But if, against all probability, it _does_, I will not be as lenient."

Regulus stood up on shaky legs. "My Lord is too kind," he mumbled, eyes directed towards the floor.

Voldemort barely refrained from rolling his eyes at the pitiful attempt at a compliment – that surely wasn't sincere in any case – after all, he didn't rule with _love._ He inwardly sneered at that ludicrous emotion. No, _fear _was all he needed to keep his followers in line. Love was a weakness, and if it weren't for the fact that Regulus was one of his more promising Death Eaters – his current favourite, in fact – he would have given him another round of Cruciatus. But he would be merciful…_this_ time.

"I must say I am surprised to see you back so soon…I wasn't expecting you for at least another week," the Dark Lord commented.

Regulus' back straightened with the familiar arrogance of someone from the Black family, but his eyes were strangely blank as he answered: "I can be very resourceful and effective my Lord. And you said this task was of utmost importance."

Thin lips stretched into a cruel smirk. "That I did. I trust your mission was successful, then?"

"Yes," Regulus pulled out the book from an inner pocket of his robe, hesitating slightly, a sudden reluctance to give it up settling over him like a heavy mist. As he looked at it, it seemed to whisper to him, and his hand trembled and he began to pull it back towards his chest.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed, and he pointed his wand at the young Death Eater. "Give it to me, Regulus," he hissed. Regulus might be his favourite, but that was nothing against the value of that book. "I will not hesitate to kill you, if necessary; like I'm sure you killed the previous owner…"

A sudden flash of the memory of what he'd done to Monique passed through his mind, and worked as well as a shower of cold water, dispelling the mist. He practically threw the book at Voldemort, feeling only relief as it left his hands.

Without looking away from Regulus, Voldemort's left hand snapped up to grab the book out of the air, and a sudden feel of electricity settled over the Dark Lord the moment his hand made contact with the leather cover. He slowly lowered his wand, and cocked his head to the side as he drank in every detail of the precious item. What he had gone through to get his hands on this…

"I have been searching for this book since I first heard of its possible existence…" Voldemort mumbled, half to himself, and half to Regulus. He stroked the spine of the book with something akin to reverence. "But every time I got closer to finding it, it eluded my grasp…"

Voldemort inhaled the slightly musky scent from it, and the pages seemed to flutter from an invisible wind. His senses tingled with protective magic that oozed from every inch of the old tome. "With this…with this, Regulus, I will become invincible – the Lord of Absolute Darkness and Master of Death..."

"What…what exactly_ is _it, my Lord?" Regulus asked, glancing at the book in some confusion. It really didn't look like much, and, when he'd glanced inside it, what he saw was clearly done by hand – and all gibberish. Or at least, it looked that way to him. But then again, the sudden feeling of possessiveness he'd felt when he'd been about to hand it over proved it was no ordinary book, and it scared him.

"This…is my destiny," Voldemort breathed, red eyes gleaming. "The knowledge hidden within these pages...magic beyond your wildest dreams. Lyrics and lore, stories and legends long forgotten…and they all lead to one thing, they all have one thing in common – they are all clues."

"Pardon me, my lord, if it is none of my business," Regulus gulped, feeling he had to know what was so remarkable about it, considering all he'd gone through...what he'd had to do to get his hands on it. "But…clues to what?"

"A place," Voldemort exhaled, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. He seemed to almost sway on the spot. "A power source, somewhere on this Earth, hidden away, from all who are unworthy. And inside it…if you enter it…" Voldemort's red eyes snapped open to stare into Regulus.' "It is said you will find the secrets to life, to magic, and to immortality. And now…"

He conjured a soft piece of silk fabric. "And now, I have the means to find it." He used the fabric to wrap it around the priceless item and tucked it safely inside his robes. "You have done well, Regulus," Voldemort mumbled. "I will remember this."

Regulus swelled with pride, some life returning to his eyes.

"Is there something you wish as a reward?"

Regulus eyes widened in surprise. Completely taken aback, he stammered: "N-no, my Lord. I-it has been an honour to be able to do this for you… That is reward enough."

Apparently, it was the right answer, for the Dark Lord looked pleased. "Very well. Since you will be at Hogwarts soon, keep your head low until I contact you. Having you thrown into Azkaban for being discovered by Dumbledore would be _so_ very bothersome."

"Yes, my Lord," Regulus said, bowing several times, before backing out of the chamber, recognizing a dismissal when he heard it.

The moment the doors closed, Voldemort pulled out the book and eagerly opened the covers. Slowly, signs and letters appeared on the yellowing pages, and a frown crossed his face as he let a long finger trace their path. "Codes and ciphers..." His eyes gleamed with the prospect of having something to decipher. "A challenge worthy of the Dark Lord Voldemort…at last…"

* * *

Eliza slowly made her way into the huge manor that was her home, dragging her feet behind her as she made her way up the pathway, ignoring the pounding rain. She had been visiting a friend for the past few days – even after her father had explicitly forbidden her to do so, due to Julie's ancestry – muggles. She was not looking forward to his reaction. Turning around after closing the oak doors, she froze in her steps as she noticed the tracks of blood and rain, leading from the grand staircase to the door leading to the terrace.

Trembling, she gulped, deciding she really didn't want to know, and decided to head back to Julie, or maybe Audrey, this time, her father's reaction be damned. However, her plans were halted when the family House-Elf, Floppy, appeared in front of her, blocking her way.

"The Master wishes to see the little Mistress," it said, pulling its ears pathetically, a miserably expression on its face.

"I-I will see him later," Eliza said.

"The Master says now, little Mistress," the House-Elf continued, eyes large. "I is ordered to bring you to him."

"And_ I_ am ordering you to stay away from me," Eliza snapped, moving to get past the creature. The House-Elf was unrelenting, and now grabbed her arm with a surprisingly strong grip.

"I has been told not to answer your orders," it said and looked up at her with sorrowful eyes. "Now come."

Eliza groaned but followed Floppy to the backyard, dreading what she would see. Her father dabbled heavily in the Dark Arts, and some of the rituals he did demanded live sacrifice. She would not be at all surprised if she found some poor, unsuspecting muggle gutted open on the terrace, where the House-Elf was taking her. Usually, it was animals, but the bloodied tracks inside had clearly been made by a human, and it wasn't like the French Ministry would do anything even if they found out. Her father was too important, too well ingrained into the system and the pockets of important key-people.

However, nothing could have prepared her for the sight that met her as she reached the patio. Her mother was lying on the wet cement…clearly dead, eyes open and unseeing, her father kneeling over her. His hunting knife that he often used in his rituals buried in her chest, her robes and the surrounding area covered in blood.

Spinning around, Eliza threw up in a nearby bush, before turning back to look at her father in utter horror. "What have you done?"

Her father stood up, blood dripping from his robes, eyes flashing, not answering. "Where have you been?"

"You killed her…" Eliza began to back away. "You actually killed her! Vous avez tué la maman! Meurtrier!" She could feel hysteria slowly setting in.

"Will you listen to me for one second?" Her father snapped. "This is not what it looks like!"

Eliza shook her head slowly, and spun around, tears obstructing her vision as she ran back into the house, towards the hall, only to come to an abrupt stop when she stumbled on the edge of a rug and fell, hitting her head hard against the stone floor.

Everything went black.

* * *

**French translations**

Oui? – Yes?  
Je ne parle pas français. Parlez-vouz anglais? - I don't speak French. Do you speak English?  
Vous avez tué la maman! Meurtrier! – You killed mum! Murderer!

* * *

_**Published: **__19/05 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Avid readers of Harry Potter may recognise 'Baddock' as the last name of a student sorted into Slytherin during HP and the Goblet of Fire.  
- For those familiar with the _Out of the Blue-_series (which Roads Travelled is loosely based on) will also recognise Eliza de Mort, though her life and personality in this series is quite different.


	7. Doors

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**22 August**

"Bienvenue en arrière."

Eliza looked up, disoriented. As she took in her surroundings, she realized she was in a hospital room with her father, her wrists restrained to the bed. While his eyes were cold, at the same time, he looked impossibly tired.

"Queest-ce que je fais ici?" She asked weakly, her own voice unrecognizable, and she blinked to hold back her tears. Her mother was dead…and her own father had killed her. "Papa?"

Her father spoke. "You have a concussion." He raised a hand to stroke her cheek, but Eliza flinched away from his touch.

"Get away from me! Murderer!" She hissed.

Pulling away, Philippe's eyes travelled to the slightly fogged over window. Outside, the rain had stopped, and the sun was peeking out from behind the slowly parting clouds. "Your mother was murdered, that much is true. But I was not the one to kill her. I am not a nice man, Eliza, but I would _never _hurt her. Of all people, she is the one who has always mattered most to me."

Eliza snorted. "Excuse me for doubting, when I came to find you kneeling beside her, _your_ knife buried in her chest!"

Her father flinched. "That is true – circumstances speak against me, but I swear to you, I did not kill my own wife."

"Then tell me, Eliza said, struggling against her bindings. "Tell me your oh-so-believable story that I'm sure the Aurors swallowed up all too eagerly. What did you pay them this time, huh?"

"I didn't pay them anything. We will know more after the formal investigation, but as of now, the Aurors believe the stab-wound killed her. There were signs of a struggle on the upper balcony, and they believe she was thrown off after she died, breaking her neck." Philippe spoke in monotone, voice empty and unfeeling.

"And I'm sure you're heartbroken," Eliza spat sarcastically.

"Yes, I am," was all her father said, and Eliza was so shocked she was unable to do anything other than opening and closing her mouth several times. "Believe what you want, Eliza, but I cared about your mother a great deal. Our marriage may have been arranged, and I may have wished for a son rather than a daughter, but this family means everything to me."

Eliza sniffed, not able to believe him – but she wanted to, so badly.

"Explain what you were doing there, in that position, then," she asked.

"I returned from work with Floppy at seven o'clock. I was a bit later than usual, since I've been working overtime, due to a project with the German Ambassador, who seems to have lost his memory of everything over night. I heard the sound of someone apparating, and thought it might be you, coming back from visiting your…_friends._" He wasn't completely able to hide his distaste over that word, not approving of Eliza's circle of acquaintances in the least. "When I stepped into the manor, I realized how wrong I was. As I saw the bloody tracks, I followed them to the terrace, and found your mother."

He inhaled sharply. "I-I didn't know what to do. I tried to stop the bleeding, despite the fact that she was clearly dead already. I was afraid removing the knife would only worsen her condition, so I let it stay in… I don't know how long I sat there, but then I heard you arrive and asked for Floppy to get you. The rest, you know."

The grief that appeared on her father's face was clear, and yet, Eliza doubted. The story was believable, but her father's stories tended to be, and he was an extremely good actor when he wanted to. Could she really afford to buy this? Could she afford not to?

"You must believe me, Eliza," her father pleaded. "I know I haven't been a good father to you, and not always a fair husband to your mother. You know I don't approve of your rebellious nature, or your friends. But I have tried my best to keep our family together, to _protect_ us! You may not like me, but I am your father. And I will not have you hate me for something that was not my doing! Hate me for everything else, but not that."

That, more than anything convinced Eliza he was telling the truth, at last. Those words, and the fact that her father had begged – that was something he would never do otherwise. "Je vous crois," she whispered hoarsely, and her father's expression turned hopeful. "I believe you, papa. And I'm sorry for thinking you were responsible. But I don't believe anything can keep our family together anymore at this point. It is beyond salvation."

For a moment, Eliza thought she saw tears appear in her normally stoic father's eyes, but when she blinked, they were gone, his face back in its expressionless mask. "You may be right," was all he said.

* * *

**1 September**

"Oh, I don't want to go back to Hogwarts," Mandy admitted.

The marauders were at platform 9 ¾ to wave Mandy off for her seventh year. However, Mandy wasn't all that happy about leaving, despite being made Head Girl. She had had a lot of fun this summer, staying in Britain rather than going to visit her sister. But there had been a lot of sad things that had happened lately, and she wanted to be there for her friends. Also, she had a feeling they were all involved in something she wasn't, and she was almost a hundred percent certain it had to do with the war. That scared her somewhat. She was afraid that if she went to Hogwarts, one of them wouldn't be there when she returned.

"Well, your education is important," Lily said, hugging her. "And you made Head Girl!"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yes. I'm dating the typical nerd." But from the grin on his face, it was obvious he didn't care.

"Oh, I just wish I had graduated with you guys!" Mandy exclaimed. "I don't know what I was _doing _before I met you! Being at school, without you there – it's going to be so weird!"

"Yes, we are quite addictive, aren't we?" James teased.

Mandy nodded. "Definitely. Hey, is that Regulus?" She asked her boyfriend, pointing over his shoulder in the direction of the younger Black. "He looks so tired."

Turning around, Sirius frowned. Mandy was right. He did look tired. "I'll be right back," he mumbled, leaving his friends to walk over to Regulus who had just said goodbye to his – their – parents. "Hi, Reg. Excited to go back to school?" Sirius asked, hands in his pockets.

Regulus raised an eyebrow sardonically. "Not really. There are a lot of better things I could be doing."

Sirius pursed his lips, not really wanting to know what that might be. "Well, your education is important. And you'll be safe from the war there," he couldn't help but add.

Regulus scoffed. "Safe from the war?" He asked in disbelief. "What planet do you live on Sirius? No one is 'safe' from the war." He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers at the word 'safe.' "It affects us all." His eyes darkened when he remembered his mission and the bloody way it had ended. He still had nightmares about it, and for the first time, he was beginning to wonder if he had done the right thing in joining the Death Eaters.

Yes, he was proud he had been able to help his Lord. Yes, he believed in what he wanted to accomplish. But he wasn't so sure if the way the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who went about it was the right one. He couldn't help but wonder if the power source the Dark Lord had mentioned was his true goal – to make himself immortal – rather than peace for the Wizarding World.

And the book that could lead him to it…there was something about it that made people obsess over the book, the Dark Lord included. Why else would people constantly take it from each other? Be willing to kill over it? Monique had been completely pleasant until he'd asked to hold it. And the sudden feeling of possessiveness that had taken hold of him when he was about to turn it over to his Lord – it freaked him out.

"Yes," Sirius agreed. "Yes, it does. Look, Reg," Sirius began, "I know we're not on the best terms – don't interrupt me – but you're still my brother, and I love you. If…if you ever need me – for anything – I promise I'll be there."

Regulus stared, sudden affection for his brother that he hadn't really felt since before Sirius started Hogwarts settling over him. Sirius was one of the good guys, and Regulus was sad he couldn't tell him anything about his life anymore. But they were on different sides of the conflict. "Thanks. It…means a lot to me, that you say that." From his expression, he supposed Sirius didn't think he was sincere, for the older Black quickly spoke up again.

"I mean it," Sirius said. "If you ever need my help…you have it, alright?"

"I meant it too," Regulus said, slightly amused. "It _does_ mean a lot to me." He paused. "What I don't understand is why? Yes, we're brothers, but like you said, we're not exactly close anymore. If something happens to me, why would that matter?"

It was Sirius' turn to stare in confusion. "What do you mean, _why would it matter?_" He repeated incredulously. "Reg, of course it would! And it's not just because I feel some sort of brotherly duty. It's what people do! It's what friends and family do! They help each other. I love you, Reg, and I don't have any other reason than that. I don't _need _any other reason than that."

"Right," Regulus said, voice thick. "Well, I should probably get on the train. It will be leaving soon." He hurried of, and to Sirius, it seemed as if he couldn't get away quickly enough. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Did it mean Sirius had managed to get through to him, somewhat, at least? Or that Regulus thought he sprouted a lot of crap?

"Hey," Mandy walked up to him. "I've got to board the train. But we'll write, as promised, and we'll see each other at Hogsmeade weekends, right?"

Shaking off his worry for his brother, Sirius smiled at his girlfriend. "Yes, of course." He gave her a long kiss. "Have fun."

Mandy grinned. "You too." She paused. "Just not…_too much _fun, if you know what I mean."

Sirius chuckled. "Don't worry. I'll take it easy."

"You, take it easy?" Mandy snorted. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Laughing, Sirius sent her off towards the train, waving at Mandy along with his friends as it began to move away from the station, Mandy just getting on before the last of the train doors closed.

As it disappeared out of sight, Sirius suddenly felt really lonely. He had gotten used to having Mandy around, and he agreed with her: A year with her at school, and him away from it…it _would _be weird.

* * *

"I will see you this Christmas."

Eliza forced out a smile. "Of course."

"I hope I will not be getting any more owls about you being in detention again," her father continued. "You don't want to disappoint me, do you?"

Eliza quickly shook her head. "No, of course not."

"Now, hurry along, or you will miss your ride." He kissed her cheek. "Je t'aime, my darling." He spun around, apparating away.

"I know," Eliza whispered to herself, staring at the spot her father had just vacated. For the first time, she actually believed it. But it wasn't enough. Like she had told her father at the hospital, their family was broken.

Her mother was dead.

She felt empty, and she needed to do something. Needed to have some sort of purpose in her life. She needed to do something for _her_. She just didn't know what. She just knew she couldn't be at Beauxbatons and pretend everything was fine and dandy.

"Les étudiants, entrent dans le chariot, s'il vous plait!"

Eliza turned to look on the giant carriage, quickly being filled with students. Attached to the carriage were beautiful Abraxan horses, which would fly them to the French school.

"Eliza!" Suddenly her muggleborn friend she'd stayed with for several days this summer, Julie Garceil, was there, hugging her, followed by Sophie Blanche and Audrey Lambert, two other close friends. "We heard about your mother. Nous sommes si désolés."

Eliza smiled weakly. "Merci."

"We should probably get on," Audrey commented. "Or the carriage will leave without us."

Eliza wanted to say something: That she had no intention of returning to Beauxbatons, but the words refused to come out.

"You will feel better once we reach school," Sophie said, her and Julie grabbing one of Eliza's arms each, practically dragging her into the carriage with them, Audrey following at a more sedate pace. "You'll see."

The moment they entered, the door swung closed, and the Beauxbatons carriage took off for the skies.

"Non," Eliza moaned weakly, sinking down onto the floor, not carrying about the looks she was certainly getting from the other students. "I-I can't...I must leave."

Her three friends exchanged worried looks.

"Que se produit ici?" A stern voice said, and Madame Maxine, the Headmistress of Beauxbatons appeared. Several students looked startled, not aware the Headmistress rode in the carriage with them, nor why. "Mademoiselle de Mort, why are you on de floor?"

"She does not want to return to Beauxbatons, Madame," Julie said hesitantly.

"Dat is ridiculous," Madame Maxine huffed, pulling Eliza up easily, settling her down on a nearby seat. "Come 'ere, child. Now, I know things 'ave bin deeffecult for you," she said, "but not return to school? What would that accomplish? Your father has asked me to look after you especially this year. He was worried you would do something stupid." Her expression looked pinched. "Eet seems he was correct."

"You should be with your friends," Audrey added gently. "Let us be there for you, Eliza."

Eliza didn't answer, only looked out of the carriage window, aching for something she could not explain. "Quel est le problème avec moi?" She whispered. "I feel empty, Madame Maxine." Tears appeared in her eyes.

"Eet ees understandable, after what you 'ave gone through, childe," Maxine patted her shoulder with a large hand.

"I'm certain you will feel better once you get back to your normal routines," Julie said. "Is that not right, Madame?"

"Oui. Your 'eart, child, is broken. But eet will heal."

"I wish I could have your faith," Eliza mumbled, eyes staring down at her lap.

* * *

**4 September**

At 7 o'clock sharp, Lily nervously used the Ministry elevators to descend to level nine, the Department of Mysteries. As the grille slid open, Lily found herself standing in the beginning of a bare corridor, aligned with flickering torches. At the end of the corridor, there was a plain black door, and hesitantly, she began to move towards it.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a beautiful blonde woman stepped out. "Lily Evans?" She asked serenely, and Lily nodded hesitantly.

"Yes."

"My name is Aurora Lovegood, and I am going to be your partner down here, as well as your mentor," the woman – Aurora – said, smiling.

"It's very nice to meet you, Ms. Lovegood," Lily said.

"Please, call me Aurora," Aurora requested. "And it's Mrs. But try to only use it if you are absolutely certain we are alone."

Lily frowned in confusion. "How come?"

"Well, as I'm sure you're aware, not many know what being an Unspeakable means. The reason for secrecy is unfortunately necessary, since a lot of what we do here can be fatal to the very existence of the world itself," Aurora explained. "And just knowing someone's name gives you power over that person."

"But aren't the people working here trustworthy?" Lily wondered out loud.

"Goodness, no," Aurora shook her head, laughing slightly. "Usually, Unspeakables work alone, rarely in teams, except for when they first begin here, like you, or when dealing with an especially delicate area of experimentation and research. Don't trust anybody. No one here knows a lot about each other, if anything at all. Not all Unspeakables have honourable intentions. While everyone down here wants to learn as much as possible, don't count on the fact that it's just for the _sake _of knowledge, rather than_ using_ that knowledge. Imagine what would happen if the information gets into the wrong hands?"

Lily shuddered, and Aurora nodded. "You understand already. Good. Now, the best thing to do would be to come up with codenames to use in the company of others. My codename is Dawn."

"I'm not sure what to pick," Lily admitted.

"It doesn't have to be an actual name," Aurora said. "It can be the name of an animal, a flower...you can pick a boy's name, or call yourself 'lamp' if you want to, but I recommend choosing something you can live with."

Lily giggled. "That may be a bit too much." She frowned. "...Ceres," she finally decided. "My codename shall be Ceres."

Aurora let an eyebrow rise. "The Roman Goddess of growing plants and motherly love? Interesting choice."

Lily – Ceres – blushed. "You know your Roman mythology."

"Of course," Aurora grinned. "So, tell me, what made you pick Ceres? Are you a fan of plants, or do you carry secret dreams of having children anytime soon?"

"Well..." She thought of that time in the SCBU with baby Elizabeth, and how she'd tricked James into believing she wanted eight kids. She might have been joking about that (two or three was fine with her), but she hadn't joked when she said she wanted a baby before she turned twenty-five... "Kind of."

Aurora chuckled.

"Does your mentor know your real name?" Lily wondered.

"He used to," Aurora said. "But after an apprenticeship is finished, the mentor is obliviated of the student's real name, just as the student is obliviated of the mentor's. Only the codename remains. The memory charm is so thorough that we can't even recall the looks of the person, just hints of what he or she _might _look like."

"But the people at the work-fair at Hogwarts...won't they know my name, and everyone else's who join the Department?" Lily asked, confused.

"Oh, those people." Aurora snorted. "No. They _think_ they're Unspeakables, but really, they're just puppets. They only _believe_ they are important – nothing they do is actually a part of the great Mysteries down here and don't have much of an impact on anything. They give the Head of the Unspeakables a list of potentials after every yearly work-fair, and he evaluates them. The people given an 'okay' are assigned a mentor, who contacts their new student. The fake Unspeakables don't even get to find out who are chosen, and I'm sure they believe we pick out a lot more than we actually do. In point of fact, you are the only new apprentice here for ten years. I was the last."

"It was you who 'dropped' that note at the Leaky Cauldron," Lily realised, and Aurora smiled, nodding.

"It was," she agreed. "I will get you a cloak and robes of the kind I wore that day. They're the standard clothing for an Unspeakable, covered in protection spells and obscuring charms to keep people from seeing your face." Aurora looked down on her wrist-watch to check the time. "Well, we should probably get moving. There are a lot of things I have to talk you through today. Tomorrow, all the other Unspeakables will arrive."

"You mean it's only you and I here?" Lily was astonished.

"Yes," Aurora answered as she walked down the corridor to the plain black door at the end, Lily hurriedly following her. "It's another thing we do to protect your identity, and mine, since we're both here as ourselves today."

She opened the door, and Lily's eyes widened as they entered a circular room lit up with candles, burning with blue flames. Twelve plain black doors with no handles suddenly began to revolve rapidly. "How do you know which door is which?" Lily asked, feeling herself become dizzy.

Aurora smirked. "You don't. Once they start to spin, it's almost impossible to determine, unless you've worked here for awhile. Until you're more used to this place, you'll have to hurry through the right one while they're standing still."

Lifting her wand, Aurora stood completely still for a few seconds. Then, a bright blue light streamed out of her wand, hitting one of the doors which flew open, though they were all still revolving. "Come on." Waiting until the door was in front of them, Aurora and Lily stepped through, the door slamming closed behind them.

"This is the room we use for spells and potions research, and where you will be spending most of your time, I believe," Aurora began. "A lot – but not everything – of what we come up with in this section of the DoM, tend to become accessible for the public. This door," she pointed to a black door to the left, "leads to the experimental chamber where we test everything out. It is also accessible from the circular entrance chamber."

"What about the other doors we saw? Where do they lead?" Lily asked.

"Each door leads to a new chamber, each one designated to different fields of knowledge. They contain the fundamental explorations of the fields that are the primary cornerstones in what being an Unspeakable is all about, what we're trying to find out. You're not ready for either of them yet, but once you've been here awhile, you might get reassigned to one of them."

Lily nodded. "Could you give me an example?"

Aurora pursed her lips. "Well..._time, _for one thing. Death, and prophecy are a couple other examples. That's really all I can tell you – all those fields are more or less common knowledge outside of the Department. The Hall of Prophecy is even accessible to the public, if one of the prophecies there is meant for them, that is. As for the Time Room, well, it's where people get their time-turners. Of course, those rooms contain a lot more – not that they know that."

"And death?" Lily asked hesitantly.

Aurora's expression darkened. "That too, used to be accessible to the public, but it's not anymore. It was once used as an execution chamber, because of an object inside that is irremovable. It sort of goes with the decor."

"The Veil of Death..." Lily breathed, and Aurora gave her a startled look.

"You've heard of it?"

"I read about it," Lily offered.

"Does death interest you?" Aurora asked.

"Not especially," Lily admitted. "The opposite of death is life, though, and that does."

Aurora smiled. "Then, if you're ever ready for a reassignment, I think I know which room I should put you in."

"Yeah, which one?" Lily asked, green eyes lighting up.

"That, I'm not telling you," Aurora grinned. "Now, there are a couple more things we need to talk about before I show you the project we're going to be working on. First, you may tell people what you work as. The secrecy is kind of a giveaway in any case. But under no circumstances are you to tell anyone what you work _with,_ understood?"

Lily nodded.

"Good. The second thing you need to know is that what we do here, especially once we get to the experimental stage is lethal. It might kill you. It probably will, someday. The more invested you get, no matter the steps you take to ensure it doesn't happen, it might. I've only been here for about ten years, and sometimes, I am startled by my own obsession about what I do – and it scares the Hell out of me. But I can't stop. It's the curse of seeking knowledge, I suppose. Are you okay with that?"

Lily frowned thoughtfully. "Yes." She finally said. "I'm okay with that."

Aurora nodded. "Alright then. If you do survive to retirement, or decide you want to quit, you will have your memories erased of what you've learnt, and the Department keeps all records of it. All you'll remember is that you've done something truly worthwhile, and maybe glimpses of the what - but never the why. This is usually the step most Unspeakables don't like."

"I can understand why," Lily agreed. "If their reason for doing this is to gain knowledge, and then have that knowledge ripped away...it must be awful. But I realize why it must be done, and it is fine."

"You're very mature for your age," Aurora noted. "Alright. Let me show you our project. Usually, the only magic that goes into a potion is that from the ingredients and your own natural, unconscious magic that makes it work – it's why muggles can't make potions, even if they did everything else right, and why potions made by Squibs are rarely useful. They don't have enough magic to charge the potion. Our project is to come up with a way to use spells – actual spells – to heighten potions' effect."

"Like a combination of a healing salve and a healing spell?" Lily questioned.

"Exactly!" Aurora beamed. "It's highly volatile to try, though. If you throw a spell into a cauldron with a potion, even if the potion does the same thing as the spell...well, usually, the reaction is quite...unpredictable. There's something about the combination of ingredients and magic that don't work all that well together. We must find out what it is that causes it. And once we have the reason..."

"...We'll be able to figure out how to avoid the negative effects, and make the combination of potions and magic work," Lily finished, nodding in understanding.

Aurora smiled broadly. "I think you will be the perfect partner."

* * *

The bell above the door jingled invitingly and Samantha looked up, grinning widely at James and Sirius. "Hello and welcome to _Mystical Records!"_

"It looks very nice in here, Sam," Sirius whistled appreciatively. "Have you had many customers yet?"

"More than I hoped for actually," Sam admitted. "I've gotten a lot sold already, and I have gotten several requests for music I should consider obtaining for sale."

"And the wizarding section?" James wondered.

"Not that many visitors," Sam said. "Just a couple, but I expected that."

"Where's Wormtail, by the way?" Sirius asked, jumping up on the cashier desk, face to face with Samantha, legs dangling.

"He went out around lunch. He hasn't been back since." Samantha bit her lip. "I don't think he's all that excited about the store. And – " she hesitated.

" – And what?" James asked. "You can tell us. Pete can be a bit thick sometimes."

Samantha sighed. "I don't know. Things aren't all that great between us right now, to be honest. Things have been a bit…strained. I just have a feeling he's mad at me for something."

The doorbell jingled again and Peter stepped in. "Having fun, gossiping about me?" He asked sourly, and Samantha blushed.

"Hey, now, that's no way to treat a lady," Sirius protested, jumping down from the counter. "She's a bit troubled, that's all."

"Talking is the best way to maintain a relationship," James nodded wisely. "You ought to try it, Wormtail, rather than bottle stuff up."

Peter's left eye twitched in annoyance. "Don't stick your nose in it," he muttered, pulling a hand through his hair. "And you shouldn't be talking about our relationship to others," he told Samantha, ignoring her wounded expression at his angry tone.

James and Sirius exchanged looks, both concerned about Peter's, to them, rather uncharacteristic behaviour. "Look, Pete – " James began, but Peter held up a hand.

"I meant it. It's none of your business." He glanced at Sam. "Sorry I've been in such a bad mood lately. I'm just stressed. Hopefully, now that the store is open, things will calm down a bit."

Samantha looked down, nodding. "It's okay," she said quietly. She felt slightly guilty. She knew she hadn't been all that attentive to Peter lately. James was right: The two of them really did need to sit down and have a long conversation. The problem was that Peter's moods around her since graduating seemed to either be pleasantly cool, or angrily seething. Plus, whenever she wanted to talk, and he didn't like the topic, he'd change the subject.

"How was your day at work?"

Like now. Samantha sighed to herself.

James and Sirius groaned in unison. "Exhausting," Sirius moaned. "Mad-Eye is truly _mad._ Did you know the first thing he and the other Aurors did when we stepped through the door, was _attack _us?"

"Moody wasn't even the worst," James told Peter and Samantha. "Alice went all 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned' on us! I'd hate to know what she's like in battle when she's actually pissed off. I can see why she and Frank are Moody's favourites."

"Yeah, I've never even heard of half the spells that came out of Frank's mouth. Not to mention all those cast silently!" Sirius agreed. "It made me realize how much we have left to learn."

"It's worth it, though," James said. "If it means we can protect those we love, and those who can't defend themselves."

Peter had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Enter James Potter, the hero who can do no wrong. What did he want? A standing ovation for being a knight in stupid shining armour? It wasn't like he'd been in a_ real_ battle. It was all talk. Peter sighed. He didn't know where all these negative feelings were coming from. Actually, he did. Years of pent-up frustration from being seen as the 'weak' link in the chain of friends who didn't appreciate him enough.

It was only now he realised it, though. James was right about one thing – he did bottle things up. He just doubted talking would solve anything. The Death Eaters had the right way of things. They didn't use any flowery words that were meaningless in the grand scale of things. They took action.

He still wasn't sure if he could full out join them though. Fear wasn't a good enough motive. Was anger and jealousy towards his friends? No, Peter realised. It would certainly be part of it, just as fear of what might happen if he said no.

But he also needed more – a better reason. A _Gryffindor _reason, so he could truly feel he'd joined the Death Eaters because it was the _r__ight _thing to do, the _noble_ thing to do, not out of pettiness. If he took that step, there couldn't be any doubt, and there certainly would be, if he betrayed his friends just for getting one up on them.

He definitely didn't need them haunting his conscience and make him waver. No, if he _did _join the Dark Lord, he needed his friends to be out of his life forever. He did not need them sitting on clouds in his mind, being generally annoying, sprouting ethics of right and wrong, heads surrounded by golden halos.

If he betrayed them, there could be no return.

* * *

**10 September**

"GET DOWN!" Caradoc Dearborn shouted, and Buffy threw herself to the ground, looking up just in time to see the apartment complex they were trying to protect blow up, bricks and glass raining down on them.

"Damn it," she muttered, scrambling to her feet, wiping some soot of her face. The series of attacks, on the wizarding and muggle world alike, had begun five days ago, after an exhausting second day at St. Mungos.

The floo had flared up, and Dorcas Meadows had poked her head through, alerting her and Remus about an attack in Edinburgh. The attack on Edinburgh had been followed by an attack on Belfast and Cardiff. Then, thankfully, there had been one day with no attacks. But yesterday, Voldemort and his Death Eaters had begun once more, targeting several places at once, scattering the Aurors and the Order to different places around the countryside. And today, they were still trying to protect those places, not having slept a wink.

The Order and the Ministry had managed to thwart Voldemort at most of the places, but the attacks were still flaring in two cities: Plymouth, and London, where Buffy currently was, with about half the Order.

"This is quite different from slaying vampires," she muttered to herself as she jumped back to her feet, immediately knocking an approaching Death Eater on his ass with a punch to the face. "Or maybe not that different," she added, regarding her fist and the unconscious wizard.

"What are you standing around for?" Marlene McKinnon yelled at her from behind some trashcans she was using as cover. "We're in the middle of a battle!"

"Kind of noticed," Buffy yelled back, weaving and ducking a volley of flashing curses, a couple of which were green. Buffy knew to avoid those – she had already died once in her lifetime, thank you very much, and that was quite enough.

Somersaulting across the scorched ground, she landed nimbly on her feet behind one of the Death Eaters. Grabbing his arm, she pulled it backwards, out of its socket, and was rewarded with a yell of pain.

"BUFFY, WATCH OUT!" Dorcas Meadowes yelled from her place further down the street, holding her own against two Death Eaters.

Quickly grabbing the Death Eater whose arm she'd just dislocated, Buffy used him as a shield against the killing curses flying her way. Throwing the now dead cloaked figure at them, knocking them over, she summoned and snapped their wands, taking time to wave cheekily before running out of harm's way.

She was feeling exhilaration flow through her veins, her inner Slayer loving the fight. It had been so long since she had been in an actual battle: The vampires she'd run into so far in this world weren't any fun, and demons were about as close to non-existent as you could get. This was the first challenge and physical exercise she had had in a long while.

Jumping down to crouch beside Marlene, she pulled out her own wand, firing in one direction, while Marlene fired in another. "You're quite impressive, you know that?" Marlene asked, while stunning a black-robed figure casually.

Buffy beamed. "Thanks."

"You're also insane," Marlene added pleasantly.

Buffy pouted.

"How are you doing, girls?" Caradoc asked, running past them and firing off several spells in rapid succession.

Marlene and Buffy exchanged looks. _"Girls?"_ They both echoed, eyes narrowing.

Caradoc apparently realised he'd said something stupid, for he quickly ran further into the centre of the battle – far less afraid of the Death Eaters than he was of two angry witches.

"We'll show him _girls,"_ Buffy muttered while sending a spell up to the roof of one of the buildings in the alley still standing, hitting the Death Eater there who toppled over, to his death.

"You're sort of scary," Marlene noted, and Buffy grinned. Her answer, however, was interrupted by several cracks of apparition as Aurors, including Frank and Alice, arrived at the site. Looking at each other, the remaining Death Eaters apparated away.

Buffy frowned. "Well, that was anti-climatic." She was doing her best to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach that had appeared now that the battle was over and her adrenaline had worn off: She had killed human beings today – she hadn't been firing any lethal curses, or personally snapped anyone's neck – but the actions she'd taken, using a human as a shield, and stunning someone standing at the edge of a roof, had lead to their death.

The newly arrived Aurors turned her around to give her an incredulous look.

"What?" Buffy exclaimed, forcing up a carefree mask to cover up her uneasy thoughts. She could feel bad about it later, but now was not the time. "I'm just saying."

* * *

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ Someone shouted, and James quickly conjured up a fluffy pillow to intercept the Unforgivable, knowing the resulting explosion of the item when the curse made contact, would hurt him less, than say, a metal plate.

He was tired. Exhausted, actually. Over the last few days, he'd been sent to participate in forcing the Death Eaters attacking around the country to retreat. As he and Sirius were 'newbie-Aurors' their orders were to stay at the Ministry for the majority of the battles, but as Order members, they were expected to be there. Which meant that he was always thrice as tired as the other newbies, who had only now been called out, when the worst part was over.

But despite his exhaustion, at least he was still alive.

The battles hadn't been anything like he'd expected. Oh, he'd known it would be no game. He'd know it would be bloody, and painful, that it killed people. He'd read about the consequences, physical as well as mental. But nothing could have prepared him for what the reality was like.

It only heightened his determination. Pushing away his exhaustion and the pain from his broken ankle, the burning in his throat, and the blood dripping into his eyes from a head wound, he threw himself back into the fray.

If his presence could save people from dying; if it could keep his friends safe, he would gladly withstand every torment the Death Eaters could throw at him.

Every pain, every injury...it was worth it, if it meant the world was a better place when it was over.

* * *

James was amazing, Lily thought, seeing her husband jump back into the fray, despite his obvious exhaustion. She'd always known he was good at spellwork, of course, but this was something else.

"JAMES, DUCK!" Sirius yelled, and Lily quickly woke up from her thoughts as horror overcame her, when a barrage of spells travelled towards James in lightening speed. Though he did manage to duck, the spells hit the brick wall behind him, and it crumbled, burying him underneath the debris.

"JAMES!" Lily yelled, green eyes wide, her heart stopping in her chest for a second.

"You can't help him now, Lily," Remus was suddenly there, expression grim, left arm hanging limply. "Focus on getting out of this battle alive, and then we help him."

Lily nodded, realizing that just because someone was good at fighting, didn't make them invincible. It just made them bigger targets. Turning her grief into rage, she pointed her wand at the group of Death Eaters responsible for James' fate, and, before the cloaked figures could react, the street below them exploded, burying them in dust and chunks of asphalt.

No one messed with her husband.

* * *

"WE MUST RETREAT!" Edgar Bones yelled at Alastor Moody. "MORE DEATH EATERS KEEP POPPING UP!"

"We can take them," Moody answered grimly, spells flying out from the end of his wand.

"WHERE THE HELL IS OUR BACKUP?" Benjy Fenwick yelled, desperation in his voice.

"In London, I imagine," Gideon Prewett replied cheekily.

Edgar glowered at him. "This is no time for your jokes, Prewett."

"Who said I was joking?" Gideon answered. "Since they're not here, they must be there – "

" – Or maybe somewhere else, if there's been another attack," Fabian, his brother, finished.

"Merlin, let's hope not," Samantha said, barely standing upright as she approached them, sinking down against the door of the building they were using as cover. "Have any of you seen Peter?"

"No," Moody grunted. "Have any of you seen Potter or Black? Merlin knows all the other Auror recruits are useless..."

Samantha gulped. "I think I saw Sirius, Remus and Lily head towards the other end of the street. James..." She sniffed. "...I think he's dead."

Moody and the other Order members head's snapped around to stare at her in horror. _"WHAT?"_ Edgar hissed. "How?"

"H-he got buried beneath half a building," Samantha said, lips trembling.

"Alright," Moody said. "Just keep it together girlie. He might have nothing more than a scratch on him. Potters are known for being resilient."

"Yes, I'm certain he's fine," Gideon comforted. "And I think we're weathering down those Death Eaters."

And it seemed to be true – the Death Eaters seemed to be tiring, and there were a lot less than just a couple minutes ago. Noting the hole in the street and the bloody limbs from dead or unconscious Death Eaters sticking up, Fabian exclaimed: "Who the Hell managed _that?"_

"Lily, I think," Samantha said. "She was sort of pissed."

"Good thing she's on our side, eh?" Sirius joked as he approached, pale-faced, ducking the spellfire being exchanged between the Order and the Death Eaters. "Lily and Remus are handling the Death Eaters further down the street. Peter's there too. I think there are only a couple dozen or so left in total. We outnumber them now."

Moody was about to answer, but in that moment, Voldemort himself appeared, along with thirty more or so Death Eaters.

"...You were saying?" Samantha asked Sirius weakly.

Benjy whimpered. "We could _really_ use that backup."

* * *

**French translations**

Bienvenue en arrière – Welcome back, daughter.  
Queest-ce que je fais ici? Papa? – What am I doing here? Dad?  
Je vous crois – I believe you.  
Je t'aime – I love you.  
Les étudiants, entrent dans le chariot, s'il vous plait! - Students, enter the carriage, please!  
Nous sommes si désolés – We are so sorry.  
Merci – Thank you.  
Non – No.  
Que se produit ici? – What is going on here?  
Quel est le problème avec moi? – What is wrong with me?  
Oui – Yes.

* * *

_**Published: **__02/06 -10  
__**Edited: **__16/06 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Aurora Lovegood is obviously – or rather will be – Luna Lovegood's mother. I chose the name Aurora for her because it means dawn and Aurora was the goddess of dawn in Roman Mythology, and I found it a nice contrast to Luna's name (the moon).


	8. Reason

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

"All the wounded have been taken to St. Mungo's," Alice told her husband. "And the cleanup- and obliviator-squads from the Ministry are on the way."

"Good." Frank nodded. "Do you know where Dumbledore is? I'm surprised he isn't here. Is he in Plymouth, with the rest of the Order?"

"I don't know. I'm sure he has a good reason for_ not _being here, though. I was talking to him through the floo, but another call came to him, and I had to go with the backup team, so I never found out what it was about..." Alice bit her lip. "Do you think another attack occurred?"

Frank pursed his lips grimly. "It wouldn't surprise me. Voldemort – "

A Patronus in the form of a squirrel suddenly approached them, interrupting Frank. Gideon's voice was heard: "Unless you're too busy over there, we could really use you in Plymouth. Potter's down, along with most of the rookies, and Voldemort just arrived with over thirty Death Eaters."

The squirrel faded out of sight and Frank and Alice looked at each other in undisguised horror, as did everyone else who'd heard the message. "ALRIGHT!" Frank yelled. "EVERYONE STILL ABLE TO FIGHT, APPARATE TO THE SITE IN PLYMOUTH NOW!"

Buffy stared at the place the Patronus had disappeared from with a feeling of dread in her stomach, and, just like that, the guilt she'd been feeling disappeared, leaving only thoughts of retaliation in its wake. James was hurt, maybe dead...and if there was one thing Buffy felt for more than anything and anyone else, it was her friends and family: No one hurt them and got away with it.

Her eyes became steely, and she clenched her fists, knowing that right after she heard James was down, she got past her mental barrier regarding killing humans. The Death Eaters might look human, with hearts that beat, and lungs that needed air to function...but right now, to Buffy, all she could see them as were monsters – they had no qualms hurting them – why should she feel bad for doing the same?

* * *

Frank along with the rest of the team from London arrived to a scene of chaos. The street was littered with dead or unconscious bodies, most of them Aurors – Frank saw the majority of them were the new recruits. In the middle of the chaos stood Voldemort himself, laughing – _laughing – _at the pitiful sight the few Aurors and the Order members still standing made.

His laughter stopped when he noticed the new arrivals, but he didn't seem particularly concerned, mostly bored as he watched the battle displayed before him, as the fighters from London jumped into the battle.

As Buffy arrived with the rest of the squad from London, Sirius left the cover of the building, joining her. "Having fun?" Buffy asked.

"Not particularly," Sirius said grimly. "James – "

" – I heard Gideon's message," Buffy interrupted, eyes cold as she physically handled the Death Eaters that got too close. " – Is...is he dead?"

Sirius shook his head. "We don't know. A building fell down on top of him..."

One new crack – this one almost completely silent – of apparation was heard as Dumbledore arrived at the scene. Voldemort sneered at him, before signalling to his Death Eaters, and they popped out of sight.

"Coward," Buffy spat at the empty spot the Dark Lord had previously occupied.

"True, but at least he's gone," Sirius said, giving Buffy a weird look – she hadn't seriously wanted to take on Voldemort, had she? She seemed different somehow – harder. There was no sign of the uneasiness or insecurity he'd seen before the Order had been sent out to help in the attacks. Somehow, Buffy suddenly seemed more like he had imagined the Slayer to be, before he had actually met her. Pushing the thoughts away, he quickly headed over to the pile of debris beneath of which James was buried, Buffy following him.

* * *

Peter had stayed out of the larger part of the battle by hiding in his rat form and watching from the crooks and crannies of the buildings. He was grateful for that decision. To him, it was obvious the Order and the Aurors were losing, completely overwhelmed by the mighty force the Death Eaters excluded. They would win the war, of that, Peter was now almost completely certain.

After James had been buried beneath the exploding brick wall, Peter had hurried towards the end of the street when it seemed like Lily, Remus and Sirius were headed there.

Voldemort and a group of Death Eaters were there as well, and Peter's first look at the Dark Lord was...well, the power he could sense was invigorating. The Dark Lord had only looked at him, nodding respectfully, before apparating away with the majority of the group, leaving four Death Eaters behind.

That moment, Sirius, Remus and Lily had arrived, and to them, he must have looked very heroic, standing alone against the four cloaked figures. Sirius had left to head back to the square, when it became clear Remus, Lily and Peter would be enough to handle the Dark Lord's followers.

After incapacitating them all, they had hurried back to the square, just in time to see Dumbledore arrive, and Voldemort and his Death Eaters apparating away. Lily and Remus quickly left Peter to join Sirius and Buffy in digging out James, soon being joined by Samantha also. Peter remained standing where he was, coolly observing the scene of battle.

The remains of the light forces looked utterly pathetic and beaten.

Moody was arguing with Dumbledore, angry he hadn't shown up sooner: Peter could hear snippets from the conversation.

"...I counted on your backup, Dumbledore! That's why Alice and I decided to send the majority of the Aurors to London, and the Auror recruits here! As it is, we lost almost all of the rookies, the Order's morale is down, and for all I know Potter might be dead, too!"

"I got an urgent message from Madame Maxine at Beauxbatons, it could not wait – "

" - BEAUXBATONS?" Alastor exclaimed. "You were out mingling with the French?"

Buffy looked up from a bloodied James, who was finally visible beneath the pile of rubble, her eyes narrowed. "You were more invested in fucking FRANCE than your own country? All this could have been avoided if you'd been here!"

"Alastor, Buffy, please, calm down," Dumbledore looked weary. "The Headmistress had a good reason for flooing. The mother of one of her students and the wife of a high-up Ministry official has been murdered, and the French Law Enforcement suspect the murder was done by Death Eaters. For many reasons, I happen to agree."

"Still," Alastor grumbled. "She was dead already - we weren't. We could have used your help."

Buffy clearly agreed, as her lips pursed at the Headmaster, before she turned back to a motionless James, ignoring Remus' look, clearly questioning her outburst.

Peter's eyes narrowed. Moody and Buffy were right. The people sent to help in Plymouth hadn't stood a chance, even before the Dark Lord arrived. The light forces as a whole were pretty useless without Dumbledore. If he fell, the light would too. Dumbledore was the only thing keeping the light side together. Overall, the other side – with or without the Dark Lord – were stronger. And the Dark Lord himself... Peter closed his eyes, inhaling. That power...he sensed nothing like that from Dumbledore.

Only the Dark Lord could ensure his survival, he realized. He couldn't rely on his friends or the light side for protection. They were weak.

"Peter!" Samantha suddenly approached, looking bloody and dirty, almost bowling him over in her hurry, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Hey," Peter laughed, feeling significantly lighter now when he had actual proof the dark side was stronger. It would make his decision easier, that was for sure. "Are you alright?"

Samantha looked surprised at his concern, and Peter felt a pang of guilt. He'd been quite snappish lately. Not that he hadn't had a good reason – Samantha could be so...inattentive sometimes, if it hadn't to do with the stupid muggle store.

He remembered what Rosier and Avery had said, about muggles tainting their way of life. He had to agree. The reason Samantha had decided to open the store on the street of the Leaky Cauldron, was so wizards and witches could be 'enlightened' by the 'better'music from the muggle world.

"Umm...yes. Better than James, at any rate." She looked over to the pile of debris that she had just helped clear away, revealing a bloody and unconscious James Potter.

"Will he be alright?" Peter looked at his unconscious friend, trying to bring up an ounce of sympathy. But while he felt that, he also felt glee: James Potter wasn't perfect, he wasn't infallible, and he certainly was no hero. He bled, just as anyone else – and he'd been taken out by the Death Eaters easily enough.

"Buffy thinks so, and she's a Healer in training. She should know. He'll probably be in a lot of pain for the next few days, though."

"Yes, well...getting buried underneath a building must be quite painful," Peter mumbled. "Come on. I want to check on him." He walked towards the injured James, Samantha following. Peter knew that for awhile longer, he had to play the concerned friend.

Just a little while longer until he could leave this weak, shameful chapter of his life, and open one of strength, power, independence and glory.

* * *

**12 September**

Everything hurt.

For a moment, James wondered where he was. Then he remembered. The battle. Sirius shouting. The wall. Groaning, he tried to sit up, only to let out a hiss of pain as his muscles protested the movement. Opening his eyes, he was immediately blinded by the ceiling, covered in sunlight.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he tried to sit up once more, but fell back in defeat against the pillows.

"James!" Lily entered the room, hurriedly walking over to his bedside and sitting down on the chair beside him. She looked distinctly frazzled, as though she hadn't slept a wink. "You're awake!"

"What time is it?" James croaked, coughing and grimacing. "How long have I been out? What happened at the battle? When can I get out of here?"

Lily let an eyebrow rise at the stream of questions. "You could have _died,_ James!"

"Could have," James agreed hoarsely. "But I didn't."

"Stubborn mule," Lily muttered, shaking her head in defeat. "Well, you've been unconscious for almost two days. As for the battle...well, things went downhill for awhile, there. Voldemort arrived – "

"VOLDEMORT?" James exclaimed, jerking up, only to let out a painful gasp, tears appearing in his eyes. "Ow..." He muttered, clutching his ribs weakly.

"Idiot," Lily rolled her eyes, but helped James lean back, stroking away some messy strands of hair from his face. "I'll have to ask the Healers when you can leave, but don't count on it happening yet. You had a lot of broken bones, not to mention internal injuries."

James groaned. "Great. I'll be behind at work."

"You could have died," Lily said again, sounding incredulous, "and all you can think about is _work?"_

"Well, it's important work," James tried, but sank down deeper into the pillows, expression faltering at Lily's look of death.

"Not another word out of you," the redhead scolded. "All you are going to do is _rest,_ got it?"

"Yes," James muttered sullenly, glaring at his body angrily.

"Good," Lily said, relaxing slightly. Then, with no warning, she began to cry, shoulders shaking.

"Lily?" James asked, bewildered. "What - ?"

"I could have lost you, James!" Lily said in a choked whisper. "We have barely been married for two months, and I could have become a widow! Do you even realize how close you came to dying? If your magic hadn't protected you from the worst of the debris, I'd be looking at a _corpse _right now and planning your funeral!"

"Lils..." James sighed, reaching out to take her hand. "You knew the risks when we joined the Order, and when I joined the Aurors. I'm not indestructible," James said. "None of us are. I knew this might happen. You knew it too. But we're doing it for a good reason, remember? For a better future."

"It doesn't mean I have to like it," Lily whispered. "I was so scared. When you disappeared beneath that wall... God, for a moment, I couldn't even _breathe!"_

"I'm sorry I scared you," James said sadly.

"Just promise me it won't happen again," Lily begged, and James closed his eyes, exhaling deeply.

"You know I can't do that. We can't know what's going to happen – "

" – Please," Lily pleaded. "I know you can't guarantee anything. Just...promise you'll at least try. Lie, if you have to. I just...I need some sort of reassurance, right now. I need my _husband._ Not James Potter, the Auror, or James Potter, member of the Order."

"I promise," James said, hazel eyes sincere, "that I will do my very best not to worry you again. I'm not planning on becoming a martyr. After all," he smiled, "I might have a reason for fighting, but I also have one for surviving: You."

Lily sniffed. "Thank you."

James smiled. "Come here," he said, carefully moving to the side in the hospital bed, despite the obvious pain he was in, leaving a small space for Lily to crawl up on.

Climbing up on the bed, Lily gently put her head on James shoulder, her hand resting on his chest. He was really there. He hadn't left her. Closing her eyes, she fell asleep, guided by the comforting beats of his heart against her palm.

* * *

**16 September**

"Hey, what are you doing?" Buffy asked, looking over Remus' shoulder and watching the parchments in front of him, filled with his neat handwriting.

Remus sighed, putting down the quill. His hands were cramping, badly, and he had a head ache. "Well, since I haven't been able to find a job, I'll have to do something else to get an income, won't I? I'm...trying to write some articles about magical creatures for a couple of wizarding magazines. If I send them in under a pseudonym, at least they can't reject them due to my lycanthropy. Not that I have any guarantee I'll be published anyway, but at least it will keep me occupied."

"It's a good idea," Buffy approved, glad he had something to do. "Does it pay well?"

"Nope," Remus replied, picking his pen back up. "But at least it's something. And I've gotten a job in the muggle world, as dishwasher. I begin next week."

"Dishwasher?" Buffy looked aghast.

"Well, it's not like I have that many other options," Remus growled, frowning. "And I've worked with it before, after dad died."

Buffy bit her lip. "I know. It's just not fair," she muttered, wrapping her arms around him from behind. "Someone with so much talent and knowledge as you should not have to resort to washing dishes just because the world is narrow-minded."

Remus tilted his head upwards, frowning slightly at her expression – she seemed angry. He wasn't used to that – usually, he was the one most upset about his lack of prospects, not her, and her clear resentment regarding it seemed out of place on her – wrong, somehow.

After a couple of seconds, Buffy's face softened, and she sighed, leaning down to kiss him softly. "Well, I'll let you get back to your writing. Don't exhaust yourself," Buffy told him. "Full moon tonight."

Remus rolled his eyes. "I know. Hey, how was James?"

"Not sure," Buffy admitted. "I went to see him during lunch, and then again after my shift was over, but he was asleep both times. Lily said he'll probably be released tomorrow though, so I imagine he's much better."

"Oh, that's good. We should pop over to Godric's Hollow tomorrow and welcome him home," Remus suggested.

"Sure!" Buffy said happily. "We can make it a group-thing. Too bad Mandy is stuck at Hogwarts."

"Depends on your point of view, I suppose. At least she's safe from Death Eater attacks there," Remus reminded her. Buffy's eyes immediately grew colder at Remus' mention of Death Eaters, something that didn't escape his notice. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Buffy asked, frowning.

"You've seemed...different, since the attacks, is all," Remus noted. "More distant. Angrier, even."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "I don't have a right to be angry?"

"I didn't say that," Remus sighed. "Look, that James got hurt is awful, but you knew what the Death Eaters are like. We all knew it would be dangerous."

"Seeing is different than hearing," Buffy said shortly. "I've only ever dealt with monsters, but I'm starting to wonder if there's any difference."

"Of course there is," Remus said, frowning.

"Yeah? Like what?" Buffy challenged. "The Death Eaters might look human, but they certainly don't care who they hurt!"

"They _are _human, Buffy," Remus reminded her, seriously worried now. When had she stopped seeing that distinction? "They are cruel, yes, but they are human. We can't allow ourselves to forget that."

"Why not?" Buffy wondered with a raised eyebrow, and Remus' eyes widened. This wasn't like Buffy at all. "Demons, Death Eaters – it doesn't matter. They're evil."

"No human is completely evil, Buffy," Remus said quietly, stomach churning. "I can't believe that."

"Well, as long as they're fighting for Voldemort, I don't see why we should show them any mercy," Buffy stated.

"Because we're better than them!" Remus exclaimed. "Because we're different, and if we start killing them, then we sink to their level. Killing should only be used as a last resort!"

"So they can get back up again and cause more damage?" Buffy scoffed. "No. It's kill or be killed. I didn't see it before, but I do now."

Remus gawked.

"Look," Buffy said, frustrated. "Let's just agree to disagree. Has Sirius written to Mandy about James?" She abruptly changed the subject.

Remus' stomach churned.

"I don't think so," Remus finally answered, shaking his head. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere with Buffy right now – it was still too soon, the attacks fresh on their minds – but he knew he had to bring up the subject again, make Buffy see his side. Sometime after the attacks, Buffy had lost her morals regarding killing, and it worried him. He knew that once you slipped, it was so easy to slip even further...until you suddenly found yourself past the point of no return. He wouldn't allow that to happen to Buffy. "He said he didn't want to worry her when there wasn't anything she could do about it anyway."

"Hopefully, that won't come back and bite Sirius in the ass," Buffy frowned. "I know I'd want to know if something happened to my friends, even if it was just a scratch. And James was pretty bad off."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Tell that to Sirius. He can be awfully stubborn."

* * *

"Do you think Belinda and I have a chance?" Lucan Davis asked conversationally out of the blue. "Long-term, I mean?"

"Why do you ask?" Mandy wondered. "You haven't even been together all that long. Just four months, including the summer holidays, when you didn't see each other at all."

"Well, that's why I want to know," Lucan shrugged. "I think I might be falling in love with her, but I don't want to run her off by coming on too strong or something." Sighing deeply, he turned to look at the blonde Slytherin.

The beautiful seventh year sat a bit apart from her fellow classmates, at the end of the table closest to the professors. If Mandy had to guess, she would say she wasn't on the best of terms with them: Lucan was muggleborn, and Belinda was a pureblood. Mandy didn't doubt her housemates were far from approving.

To be honest, Mandy hadn't been all that approving of the relationship between her best friend and Belinda either, at least not in the beginning. She feared she was only using him. But since they were still together, after a summer apart, and it seemed as though Belinda had chosen Lucan rather than her housemates, despite the risks that entailed, they had her blessing. It was a little Shakespearian, to be honest. Hopefully, they wouldn't end the way Romeo and Juliet had though.

"I think you have every possibility of lasting," Mandy promised. "Don't rush into anything, though. Take it slow. One step at a time, and all that."

Lucan had stopped listening: A frown was on his face, since in that moment, one of the Slytherin Chasers, Barrett Kirk, had thrown a spoonful of mashed potato into Belinda's hair, laughing uproariously.

The blonde visibly clenched her jaw. Standing up, she walked over to their table, sitting down between Mandy and Lucan, who glared at some of the more biased Ravenclaws who had begun whispering.

"Hi," Belinda said, gratefully accepting a napkin from Mandy and using it to remove the potato mash from her blonde tresses. "Thanks."

Lucan was still frowning. "Look, Bel, maybe – "

" – No," Belinda interrupted.

Lucan pouted. "You don't even know what I was going to say!"

"I have a pretty good idea," Belinda said dryly. "You might be a Ravenclaw, Lucan, but you can be incredibly Gryffindor sometimes. Tell me I'm wrong when I say you were just about to suggest we break up for awhile for my own good, or something along those lines."

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Lucan muttered.

Belinda rolled her eyes. "It was _mashed potato,_ Luke. Not a killing curse. Not reason enough to stay away from each other, believe me. Besides, I think I can handle myself. I don't need you to protect me. The sentiment is sweet, but also quite overbearing. Is he always that way?" She asked Mandy who nodded.

"It's a curse."

"Hey!" Lucan exclaimed. "Are you two ganging up on me, now?"

Mandy and Belinda gave him identical sweet smiles and Lucan shuddered. "Okay, that was scary. Don't do it again."

"Aww, did we hurt your sensibilities?" Mandy teased good-naturally.

"Why am I the one drawn to all the creepy women?" Lucan cried to no one in particular, mock-shuddering.

"You know you love us," Belinda said, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Okay!" Mandy covered her eyes. "If you two are going to be all sugary sweet, get a room. I don't need to be reminded that my own boyfriend is miles away, probably risking his life doing stupid Auror stunts."

Belinda and Lucan laughed.

* * *

**17 September**

"Welcome back!" Sirius said jubilantly, holding the door to Godric's Hollow wide open, easing Lily and James inside.

"Thanks," James said, sounding exhausted. "You won't believe how glad I am to be out of St. Mungo's."

"You're still confined to bed-rest for two more days," Lily reminded him.

"At least it's _my_ bed and not a hospital one," James said happily, lying down on the couch. "Could you get me a glass of water, honey?" He asked Lily, who quickly disappeared into the kitchen.

Sirius snorted. "You're going to take advantage of your 'weak' state for as long as possible, aren't you?"

"Well, _duh,_" James grinned. "I nearly died – I deserve some sort of reward."

Lily returned, both with a glass of water, pillows, and a fluffy blanket. "Aww, you didn't have to," James grinned at her, ignoring his friends rolling their eyes at the scene behind Lily's back.

"Well, I want to," Lily fussed. "Is this position okay, honey?"

"...My back aches a little," James admitted, hiding his grin from Lily, who immediately changed the position of the pillows.

"Bullshit," Sirius coughed.

"...I really think you ought to have stayed at the hospital one more day," Lily said.

"No," James said quickly. "I'm fine, really!"

Buffy smirked. "Maybe Lily is right. Your stubbornness won't do you, or your body, any favours. St. Mungo's might be the best place for you, at least for another couple of days."

Lily was beginning to nod thoughtfully, while James shook his head back and forth. "Nonononono," he laughed weakly. "I don't need to go back to the hospital. I promise, Lils, my back is fine now! Good as new!"

Peter and Samantha snorted.

"Well, I'm getting you a pain-reliever at least," Lily decided, standing up and leaving the room. "And maybe I'll have a fully certified Healer come over to check on you, just in case..."

"Traitors," James hissed at his sniggering friends once Lily was out of earshot.

"Who's the one faking, here?" Remus asked with a raised eyebrow. "It's certainly not us. I bet _I'm_ in need of that pain-relieving potion more than you are, right now."

"Oh, it was the full moon last night, wasn't it?" Peter asked. "How has that been going for you? I mean, none of us have joined you since we graduated."

"Well," Remus exchanged a look with Buffy. "There was one night when things didn't go so well, but every other full moon so far has worked out fine. Buffy's presence helps just as much as yours do."

"Good," Peter nodded. "And...have you managed to find a job yet?"

"He's writing some articles for a couple of magazines," Buffy revealed proudly.

"It's nothing to brag about..." Remus muttered humbly, blushing at the praise.

"Oh, really? That's great!" Lily enthused, returning with a vial of pain-potion which she handed to James. "Do you think you'll be published?"

"Since I'm writing under a fake name, at least they can't find out I'm a werewolf and dismiss them because of that, so...a pretty good chance, at least," Remus said.

Behind Lily's back, James opened the vial and threw the contents into the flower-pot standing on the table. A moment later, the red-head turned back around, accepting the now empty vial from an innocently smiling James. "Thanks. I feel a lot better."

Sirius was red in the face from trying to hold back his laughter, having seen what his best friend had done.

"You can't even be yourself?" Peter was frowning at Remus. "That's awful."

"It's not so bad," Remus shrugged. "At least I get paid."

"How much?" Samantha wondered. "I mean, you don't have to tell, but – "

" – It's...not that much, to be honest," Remus admitted. "But I've gotten another job as well, so things should work out. At least Buffy won't be able to say she's the only one supporting us," he joked, though Buffy could see that the fact her pay might be the thing to keep them both floating once Remus savings and the money given to him from his parents run out, had he not got a job, upset him.

"That's awesome," Sirius said. "I knew not everyone in Britain could be prejudiced arseholes. What will you be working as?"

Remus smile faltered. "Dishwasher..." He mumbled. "In the muggle world."

"Seriously?" James asked. "That's not fair!"

And it wasn't, Peter thought. It really wasn't. Add that to the fact that Remus had to pretend to be someone else to even be considered as a writer – that his quality of writing didn't matter because he was a dark creature – the state of the Wizarding World was appalling.

The world was screwed up. Remus – and werewolves like him - shouldn't have to resort to working for muggles just because the Wizarding World was too prejudiced. While Peter could understand why Remus was denied work to a point, that didn't mean he shouldn't be given a chance.

Maybe at least let him work for less pay, or something. After all, werewolves couldn't put in the same effort as anyone else, since they had to be absent three days out of the month. They couldn't expect the exact same treatment as normal _humans._ But things had to change.

The Dark Lord understood that: He and his Death Eaters wanted to change the Wizarding World. Peter did too. It was righteous, honourable...suddenly, Peter realized he had his reason. His _noble_ reason.

He would no longer stand on the sidelines, like his friends, who were quick enough to complain things were unfair, but not willing to do anything about it. Peter was. He was better than them. _Braver_ than them. He would join the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters, because it was the right thing to do.

Oh, he needed to think it over, a little bit more, of course. But what more reasons did he need? None. He didn't need to justify his choice to anyone else, after all, just himself, and with the motive he'd just found, worthy of any Gryffindor, he felt content.

* * *

**19 September**

Eliza sighed, ignoring the conversation her friends were trying to involve her in. She had been at Beauxbatons for almost three weeks now, but she still felt empty. Getting back into her 'normal routines' certainly hadn't helped – the opposite, in fact.

"What do you think, Eliza?" Julie asked.

"Huh?"

"About Albus Dumbledore's visit," Audrey said, and Eliza perked up slightly.

"The Headmaster of Hogwarts?" She asked. "He's coming here?" Maybe he could give her a purpose - a reason to keep moving forwards. He was supposed to be very wise, wasn't he?

Julie, Audrey and Sophie exchanged pleased looks, glad their friend was finally showing a little interest. "Oui," Sophie said. "I heard Madame Maxine mention it to our caretaker."

"When is he arriving?" Eliza asked. Albus Dumbledore…he was the epitome of a light wizard, and the most powerful one in Britain, if not Europe. Maybe he would agree to let her go to Hogwarts? She knew she didn't want to stay in France any longer than necessary. She had no reason to stay, other than her friends, and they would manage without her.

As for her father…she…cared about him – after her mother's death, he had been less cold towards her, but she couldn't honestly say she loved him. Nor could she stand the Dark Arts he immersed himself in. She wanted nothing to do with them.

"Beginning of October, I think," Sophie answered. "Though, from the tone of her voice, I doubt it is for pleasure."

"Business, then," Audrey said. "Maybe it has something to do with the war going on in Britain? He is said to be heavily involved in it, isn't he?"

"I heard he is that country's Dark Lord's arch nemesis," Julie said conspiratorially. "Do you think he seeks the aid of the French Ministry?"

"Maybe…but then, why would he visit our school?" Audrey sounded doubtful.

"Perhaps he wants to recruit the seventh years?" Sophie suggested, only half-joking. "I heard he is the leader of some sort of secret vigilante group over there."

"Can't be very secret, if you've heard of it," Julie laughed.

Eliza cocked her head thoughtfully. Rumours or not, they must have come from somewhere… Help in the war…fight against the Dark Arts…it was tempting. It would give her a purpose… Would Albus Dumbledore accept her help, or would he think her to young? Probably. Either way, after graduation, she would go to Britain. Though fighting in a war wouldn't have appealed to her in normal circumstances, she now felt she had to.

Dark Arts had destroyed her once gentle father. Dark Arts had been what had led to the death of her mother – she had no doubt of it. And the war in Britain…was due to a Dark Lord, corrupted by the Dark Arts. Fighting for the light side, against all that the dark stood for…it was a worthwhile cause. That she would be getting revenge for all the bad things in her life that had ripped her family apart… That was just a bonus.

Feeling a sudden calm settle down over her, Eliza rejoined her friends' conversation, laughing and joking.

Eleven days left, and then, it would be October.

* * *

**27 September**

"YOU GOT PUBLISHED!" Buffy squealed happily, holding up an issue of _Wizarding Wilderness,_ a widespread Wizarding Magazine which contained articles on known magical creatures.

Remus couldn't help but smile at his girlfriend's enthusiasm. "Yes, I know. I got a letter about it at the end of last week."

"And you didn't tell me?" Buffy exclaimed, pouting slightly.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Remus shrugged.

"Well, you succeeded. So – " Buffy's eyes twinkled. " – Can I expect to find more articles by 'Miles P. Ruun' in the future? Nice penname, by the way."

"Thanks," Remus said. "And I don't know…maybe. I'll keep sending stuff in, but I can't expect to be published every time. And I may not have as much free time to write as I expected."

"Why not?" Buffy frowned. "Your dishwashing gig is only to the middle of November, isn't it?"

"Yes, but Dumbledore wanted to see me tomorrow – apparently, he's got some extra Order work for me."

"Really?"

Remus nodded. "Yes. I have no idea what it's about, though."

"Well, I suppose you'll find out tomorrow," Buffy said. "Hopefully it's nothing too dangerous. Maybe he wants you to do his paperwork," Buffy teased.

"Doubtful," Remus snorted. "And I might be a bookworm, but I _hate _paperwork."

"I'm guessing Dumbledore does too," Buffy grinned. "But, seriously, all kidding aside, what sort of work do you think he's got for you?"

Remus shrugged. "Research, maybe?" He offered. "I have no idea."

"Whatever it is, know that I support you," Buffy said, kissing his cheek. "And you'll do great."

Remus' lips twitched. "We'll see. I'm happy to know you believe in me, at least."

"Well, you certainly don't!" Buffy huffed. "Someone has to."

Remus grinned.

* * *

**28 September**

"You want me to do _what?"_ Remus asked, eyes wide.

"Join Greyback's werewolf pack," Dumbledore repeated, blue eyes twinkling. "We need to know where the werewolves stand in regards to Voldemort, and the fact is that you are in a unique position to find out. As a werewolf, you have a much better chance of succeeding than any other Order member, who would never be able to actually infiltrate a pack."

"Do you realise what you're asking?" Remus wondered, eyes flashing. "Greyback _killed my father._ He's the one who _bit_ me, and you want me to join his _pack?"_ He really didn't want to do this – not only because it was Greyback, but because of Buffy, as well. With her current stance on killing, he really didn't want to leave her alone for a longer period of time. Who knew what could happen? Buffy might act like nothing was wrong, but Remus knew she was far from okay. She was walking a slippery slope, and it was lucky there hadn't been any more attacks lately to make her slip any further.

"It is a voluntary mission," Dumbledore told him soothingly. "You don't have to say yes. I understand it will be difficult for you. But if you can put aside your personal feelings for a moment, and think about what we could gain from this…"

"What do you hope to find out?" Remus massaged his forehead tiredly. "Greyback is on Voldemort's side, you know that."

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "Which is the reason I want you there with him. Perhaps you will be able to extract some plans? And maybe not everyone in his pack agrees with him. Perhaps you will be able to sway some to our way of thinking?"

"Those in Greyback's pack have been raised in the wild," Remus said bitterly. "They're feral, and would never be willing to listen to a_ 'tame' _werewolf. And what can we offer them?"

"We can't offer much, true, but at least we won't be offering them lies. Voldemort will never give them what he has promised."

Remus sighed. "If…if I do this...the adults that have been raised with Greyback will never agree. They're too ingrained with Greyback's thinking. The most you can hope for is neutrality from the adults who have been newly turned, if there are any. Doubtful, since Greyback prefers to bite children." Remus bit his lip. "I might be able to sway them, but then they will have to leave. It will be too dangerous to stay with Greyback. Can you promise them a safe place to stay?"

"I will do my very best," Dumbledore said. "I'm sure some Order members will be amenable to offer their homes temporarily, until real arrangements can be made, if necessary."

"Fine," Remus muttered, wondering how he would have turned out if he'd been raised in Greyback's pack. Would he have become like him? He inwardly shuddered. "I'll do it. I won't be able to until November, though."

"That is fine," Dumbledore said. "I imagine you might need some time to get used to the thought of _'living in the wild,'_ so to speak."

Remus grimaced, already half-regretting his decision. "Yeah…"

* * *

**French translations**

Oui – Yes.

* * *

_**Published: **__16/06 -10  
__**Edited: **30__/06 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Miles P. Ruun – Anagram for Remus Lupin


	9. Plans

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**1 October**

"Ah, Dumblydore, welcome," Madame Maxine greeted the well-reputed wizard.

"The pleasure is all mine, Olympe. You're looking lovely, as always," Dumbledore said with blue eyes twinkling mischievously at the Beauxbaton Headmistress.

"Oh, you," Madame Maxine huffed, but the half-giantess was blushing.

Growing serious, Dumbledore looked up at Olympe over his half-moon spectacles. "Have you alerted the student of my arrival?"

Madame Maxine shook her head. "Non. I am afraid Mademoiselle Eliza has not bin very receptive to speaking at all since de term began. She 'ad a minor breakdown on de carriage 'ere. I did not want to upset 'er furzer by mentioning your veeseet. She 'as bin getting better lately, though."

Dumbledore frowned. "I see."

"What did zee French Meeneestry and Philippe say about zee attack on Madame de Mort?"

"That is between us only, Madame. But what I heard has me further convinced it was indeed Death Eaters. I am hoping Miss de Mort will make things even clearer."

"Does Philippe know you are looking to speak with 'is childe?" Olympe asked.

"He knows, but he was not very happy about it," Dumbledore answered. "He wanted to deny me this visit, in fact. But since Eliza is of age, it is her decision whether to see me or not. I am hoping she will be more receptive to the idea."

Madame Maxine nodded, and was about to suggest they go find Eliza – most probably, she was in her rooms – when the French girl in question appeared from behind the corner. The dark haired young woman wore an almost eager look on her face – the most expressive the Beauxbatons Headmistress had seen her for quite a long time – and now she approached the two with determined steps.

"Excusez-moi, Madame Maxine," Eliza said, "I was wondering if I could speak to Professeur Dumbledore for a moment? If that is alright with you, Monsieur?" She added, turning to Dumbledore who was staring at her with amused eyes.

Madame Maxine's eyebrows rose in utter surprise, a bemused expression on her face. "That ees not a problem at all, Eliza. In fact, 'eadmaster Dumblydore wants to see you as well."

It was Eliza's turn to look surprised. "He does?"

"Oui. I will leave you to talk." Madame Maxine said, giving Eliza a comforting pat on the shoulder as she left her and Dumbledore standing alone in the beautiful corridor.

Dumbledore smiled widely at Eliza. "Well, Eliza," he said. "Shall we find someplace a little more comfortable for our conversation?"

"Yes..." Eliza was feeling a little overwhelmed by how easy it had been to get Dumbledore's attention and also quite confused: Why did he want to see her? "There is an abandoned office further down the corridor, if that will suffice?"

"That will be perfect," Dumbledore assured her.

* * *

"Have a nice day!" Peter said, smiling brightly at the muggle exiting _Mystical Records._ The moment he was out the door, Peter's smile fell into a sour grimace. He hated the customers. He hated the music. He hated the store. And he hated Samantha for talking him into running it for the day:

"_It will be fun, Peter, you'll see! I know you haven't been all that enthusiastic, but maybe a day in charge will change your mind!"_ Peter shuddered as his girlfriend's words ran through his head. He was grateful to her for letting him co-own the store, he supposed, since he hadn't had that many other plans (alright, none). But he was regretting it now, when he realised how much work it entailed. And where did she get off, ordering him around?

He sighed, slipping into a daydream of a world where the Dark Lord was in charge, something he found himself doing a lot more lately. Muggleborns and Half-Bloods all in menial positions, while purebloods like him reaped the benefits, and enjoyed well paid jobs high up in the Ministry, delegating all the actual hard work...

He wished he could tell his friends about his dreams, but Peter knew they wouldn't understand, if they decided to listen in the first place. They were too different, Peter realised, to ever be equals. He had ambitions, they didn't. He understood the world needed to change, they didn't. He was better than them, but they didn't acknowledge that. They constantly pushed him down – and it was only now Peter saw he deserved better. He _would _have better.

Peter wondered when it all had gone so wrong. Maybe things had gone wrong from the moment the marauders met, and Peter accepted his rank at the lowest spot in the pecking order. Maybe if he'd been more confident, more forward, things would be different and he wouldn't feel so out of place now. Maybe he would have had Remus' place, or even a place as a leader, rather than James or Sirius.

In the Dark Lord's ranks, things would be different, he decided. He would make sure to place himself high in the ranks, to gain the Dark Lord's confidence, his ear. He would be the one closest to him, the one he listened to. And when the Dark Lord won, Peter would be the one who got rewarded for his unfaltering loyalty.

And if his friends survived – Peter could be merciful and make sure they weren't killed – he would give them a place in the new world, unless they rebelled, of course. Peter wasn't stupid enough to think they would be content with the Dark Lord's rule – his friends were naive, after all, and it was doubtful they would realise it was all for the best. But with him in charge, he would make them understand, to accept their new class.

Samantha could keep her stupid store, but it would only sell wizarding music. Mandy could do the crossword puzzles for the Daily Prophet, Lily would be a secretary somewhere, and Buffy could work as a barmaid in Hogsmeade. Yes, Peter thought, those were fine occupations for the four girls that fit them perfectly.

Sirius and James could be Aurors, as they wanted, but Peter would make sure they never advanced in the ranks – for once, they could be the followers. And Remus could be the Animal caretaker at a Magical Zoo or something. He would enjoy that, right? Let no one say Peter wouldn't take care of his friends, even if they had grown apart now.

He and Samantha were also a thing of the past. It was only a matter of time before he broke up with her. Peter needed a girlfriend who actually cared about _him,_ who put _his _needs first. He hadn't seen it before, desperate as he was for a girlfriend, but Samantha could be quite _boring -_ too unassuming. And she was not a pureblood, either. His mother would never stand for it, nor would the Dark Lord. He could do so much better. As a Death Eater, he did not doubt he could have anyone he wanted – the Dark Lord would make sure of that.

The bell jingled and Peter looked up, his welcome greeting dying on his tongue as he recognised the two people entering the store, looking around with expressions of distaste. "You own this place, Peter, really?" Rosier drawled. "You could do so much better."

"I-I know," Peter said, nervously walking out from behind the counter.

Avery let an eyebrow rise. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "Maybe you've begun to understand, at last?"

"Yes," Peter said. "Y-you were right. About muggles, about the state of the Wizarding World...about everything."

"Excellent!" Rosier grinned broadly. "You have decided to join the Dark Lord, then?"

"I-I think so," Peter said.

"There can be no doubt," Avery said, eyes stern and voice cold. "The Dark Lord does not need hesitant fools in his ranks. He needs people he can trust and count on."

Peter straightened. "I am not in doubt," he sniffed, trying to make himself sound disdainful and more confident than he felt. "But I want to meet the Dark Lord before making a final decision."

Rosier and Avery exchanged looks, and then, they began to laugh. For the first time, Peter felt some reservation in what he was about to do. "Peter, Peter..." Rosier chuckled. "You think you can make demands of the Dark Lord? You may want to see him – that does not mean he wants to see you."

Peter gulped. "I-I wasn't making demands," he quickly said. "All I'm saying is that i-if the Dark Lord would be as kind as to m-meet with me before I decide, I-I would be honoured."

Avery stared at him with an inscrutable expression. "Better," he finally said. "At least you sound properly in awe. That's good. The grovelling could use some work, though."

Peter gulped again, wondering for the first time if he knew what he was getting himself into. It was beginning to sound as though he would be regarded as even lower on the status scale than with his friends. And he wanted to join the Dark Lord to get away from that!

"He'll learn," Rosier said dismissively. "They all do, sooner or later."

"And if you want to be of any use to the Dark Lord, you better learn it sooner," Avery added, in what Peter supposed was to be a helpful tone, but came out a lot more threatening.

"We will ask the Dark Lord if he wants to meet with you before the marking ceremony. He is a very busy man – I'm sure you understand," Rosier said after a long silence with an oily smile, during which Peter was trying to hide his shaking hands behind his back. "We'll get back to you with a response."

"Enjoy your day," Avery said pleasantly – a little too pleasantly, exiting the store with a mock-bow.

"L-likewise," Peter stammered out as Rosier, too, exited, giving the room a last scornful glance. Once they were gone, Peter sank down on the floor, for the second time that day wondering if he'd made the right decision. Rosier and Avery hadn't been half as pleasant today as during their last meeting, at the cinema. "Maybe they were just stressed," Peter told himself out loud. "Yes, I'm sure they were just stressed." He wasn't quite sure who he was trying to convince, but on a subconscious level, he knew it was far too late to back out now, even if he wanted to. The time for regrets had come and gone.

* * *

"Now, why did you want to see me, Eliza?" Dumbledore asked, once they were settled down comfortably in the vacant, but well-kept, office.

Eliza gave him a nervous look, her hands resting tensely in her lap. "If you don't mind, Monsieur, I would prefer if you would go first," she began carefully. "On Madame Maxine it seemed as if you were here specifically to see me?"

"Ah, yes." Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "First, let me begin with offering my condolences for about what happened to your mother."

Eliza nodded stiffly. "Merci."

"I am certain you have heard about the situation in Britain?" At Eliza's affirmative nod, he continued. "I suspect your mother's death may be connected to Voldemort – the Dark Lord, and the reason our country is at war."

Eliza swallowed. "Pourquoi?" She wondered out loud, looking at Dumbledore warily. "Why do you think that? My mother had no connection to him. I don't even believe my father has one."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "You have suspected your father has been involved in dealings with Voldemort?"

Eliza quickly shook her head. "Non. Not as such. But he dabbles in the Dark Arts, sometimes... So, between my mother and father, my father would be more likely to do business with the Dark Lord."

"Call him Voldemort, child," Dumbledore prompted.

"Voldemort, then," Eliza corrected herself. "Still, I don't understand what Voldemort would want with my mother?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I was hoping you could tell me. Shed some light on the situation, so to speak."

"What makes you believe it was Death Eaters in the first place?" Eliza asked, frowning. "The investigators my father has spoken with said mother died in a physical struggle, and there were no signs of a Dark Mark anywhere on the property. I have read in the newspaper that Voldemort's followers leave that as a symbol on places they attack?"

"It is true there were no such markings on your home," Dumbledore agreed. "However, the French Aurors, as well as myself, when they asked for a second opinion, found residual energy from apparation. As I'm sure you are aware, apparation cannot be traced, but some magic from the action always remains behind: Not enough to identify the person, but sufficient to determine whether it was a male or female, and if he or she was wearing any other objects expelling further magical energy."

"And?" Eliza asked.

"The person who apparated away from your property that night was male, carrying a magical object of some kind, and branded with a Dark Mark."

"But...the Dark Mark is not an object, is it?" Eliza frowned, trying to recall what she'd read in the Daily Prophet (she had begun to read the British newspaper after she heard of Dumbledore's visit, hoping it would tell her more about the ongoing war) about the marking the Dark Lord used on his followers.

"No," Dumbledore agreed. "But it is extremely magical in origin, and as such expels a lot of energy – enough to be picked up on by magical scanners."

"Oh." Eliza bit her lip, more certain than ever she wanted to help in the war effort once she'd graduated. Now when she knew for certain the Dark Lord was behind her mother's death, she wanted revenge. "And what about the object he was carrying?"

"An inventory of the things in your mansion shows only one thing missing – a book. We believe that is the object."

"So the Death Eater stole it," Eliza concluded. "What would he want with it? And what book?"

"Your father says it is not a book from the mansion's own library – he said it belonged to your mother's private collection. He has no idea what the title is, or what it is about, only that your mother liked carrying it around, for some reason." Dumbledore gave her a scrutinizing look. "Do you?"

Eliza shook her head. "Non. But I think I know what book you are speaking about. My mother brought it home from a visit in Germany. I never saw my mother reading it. But she was always carrying it around, someway. She was almost...obsessive about it."

Dumbledore jerked back, startled, something nagging in the back of his mind, triggered by that word – obsessive. "Surely not..." he muttered to himself, ignoring Eliza's look of confusion. "Tom couldn't possibly have...no, no. It can't be that book... It has been lost for so long...no more than a myth at this point..." He closed his eyes, suddenly looking extremely tired, with despair lining his face. "Oh, Tom, you fool..."

"Monsieur?" Eliza asked carefully.

"I am sorry, Eliza," Dumbledore said, opening his eyes again. "But I am afraid, if the book is the one I fear it is, things just became a lot more complicated."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Eliza asked, trying not to come across as too eager, but there was no disguising the fervent tone in her voice. "The reason I wanted to speak with you was because I know you are very well-known as Voldemort's main adversary. I want to assist you in the war! I know I'm young, but I can help! I know I can!"

"Oh, child," Dumbledore shook his head. "It is not your war. It is Britain's war."

Eliza's eyes flashed. "It became my war when my mother was murdered."

"You do not know what you are getting yourself into," Dumbledore said, almost sternly. "Revenge is not a good motive for involvement, Mademoiselle de Mort."

Eliza's shoulders slumped. "It's not just revenge," she mumbled. "It is part of it. But...more than that, it is the Dark Arts. It destroyed my family, and I'd rather it didn't rip someone else's apart. I want to help. I have to do _something,"_ she stressed. "I need to feel like I matter, like I can make a difference!"

Dumbledore gave her long a stare. "If you are certain you know what you are getting yourself into...if you are certain getting involved in the war is what you want...then, contact me after you have graduated and we will speak more about your options then."

Eliza nodded, reluctant to let things go, but also realizing this was the furthest she would get today. After all, she had been prepared for the fact that Dumbledore would find her too young, and was smart enough to understand that any involvement would have to wait until after graduation. Coming across as over-persistent was certainly not going to get her anywhere. "I understand."

"Now, I must be going," Dumbledore stood up. "It has been a delight to speak with you, Eliza."

"Likewise," Eliza said. "Thank you, Monsieur."

"I'm not quite sure what you're thanking me for, but you're welcome," Dumbledore said, winking at Eliza, who smiled.

"I will be counting the days until graduation, when I can contact you again."

Dumbledore chuckled, half-amused, half-sad. "Just promise me you will consider carefully what joining the war means. You understand you might be throwing your life away? You have several months to think it over – use them wisely."

* * *

**8 October**

"I heard you wished to see me?"

Peter's legs trembled as he approached the Dark Lord, sinking down into a hasty bow. He had gotten the letter a day ago – the Dark Lord had agreed to see him, and Peter was delighted. And also, terrified.

Now, standing here in his presence, he felt very small. The Dark Lord was awe-inspiring. Even with his head bowed he could sense the power and Peter felt it difficult to breathe. "Rise, Pettigrew," the Dark Lord said imperiously, and Peter shakily straightened up.

"I-I am grateful you decided to g-give me this o-opportunity, my Lord," he said, looking up into a pale face surrounded by long, dark hair. Two red slits for eyes stared into his own, and Peter quickly lowered his face, not wanting to seem disrespectful.

The Dark Lord chuckled and a shudder went through Peter's body. "Peter, Peter..." He hissed. "Are you afraid to look into my eyes? Or perhaps...you are afraid what I will find in your mind..."

Peter's head flew up, horrified. "N-no, my Lord! I am loyal to you!"

"And yet, you have not sworn so," Voldemort noted.

"I-I admit, I was hesitant," Peter said. "B-but now, seeing you...I am certain. I-I want to join you."

"Come," the Dark Lord said, and with legs that felt like spaghetti, Peter walked closer to the throne, kneeling by Voldemort's feet.

Spiderlike fingers grasped Peter's face, forcing him to look into those bloody eyes. Memories from Peter's life flashed through his mind, faster than Peter could discern, but the Dark Lord seemed to be able to, as he let go of his face, leaning back against his backrest. "Your mind has pleased me," he said out loud, musingly and Peter almost sagged with relief.

"I am faithful, my Lord," he said, backing up a few steps.

"More faithful to me than to your friends?" Voldemort asked.

"Y-yes," Peter said. "I won't l-lie: They mean a lot to me. B-but...I am afraid I don't mean as much to them."

"You are a good friend, Peter," the Dark Lord praised. "Even when your friends don't deserve it. It is admirable. Such loyalty is difficult to find, these days. You will make a fine follower."

Peter almost glowed.

"Still, I must be certain: If it came down to them or me...who would you chose?"

"I have already chosen, my Lord," Peter boasted, more confident now. "You."

The Dark Lord let out a high-pitched laugh. "Excellent!"

"I-I do have some concerns, though," Peter said. "As I'm sure you know, I am a member of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix..."

Voldemort hissed at the mention of the Headmaster's name, red eyes flashing angrily. "Yes."

"I-if I take the mark...I am afraid I will be discovered. A-and while I am certain I want to follow you...I am not certain i-if the life of a Death Eater is the r-right one for me."

"Continue," the Dark Lord said coldly and Peter gulped.

"I-I suggest a trial run," he said boldly, trying to force some of that Gryffindor courage to the surface. "A year, as a Death Eater, without the mark, and if I-I change my mind, I won't be hurt."

Voldemort laughed again, then, a far more sinister laugh. "You think you can make demands of me?"

"N-no!" Peter hurriedly said. "My Lord. I just think – "

" – One thing you must learn, Pettigrew," Voldemort spat, and the air in the room grew noticeably colder. "You don't think. You don't question. You do as I say, when I say, no matter _what _I say. Understood?"

"Y-yes," Peter said meekly, afraid now. Maybe this had been a stupid idea. Why had he wanted to become a Death Eater again?

The Dark Lord smiled, though it came out more as an evil smirk, to Peter. "Still. Your bravery amuses me. I am willing to agree to your...request, with some additional terms of my own, of course."

"Y-yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord," Peter bowed several times.

"A year, as a Death Eater, without my mark. Of course, for this freedom, you must give some things up in exchange. Without a mark, your position for spying will be a lot easier. I expect you to report what goes on in your Order meetings. And while I will let you escape with your life, I will still punish you, if you make mistakes. We can't afford them. If you change your mind about becoming a follower...I can't promise you will live. I hate to waste my time on something that doesn't pay off."

"I-I understand," Peter said. "And the rest s-sounds more than fair, my Lord," he agreed readily.

"Also, before next year, I expect you to participate in raids," the Dark Lord continued. "It is unfortunate we have to do violence, but no one will listen otherwise. I've tried the peaceful ways and they didn't work. The wizarding world is too set in its views. It's sad that only something drastic will change them and make the world a better place."

Peter nodded eagerly in agreement. It was true, after all. The Wizarding World was far too stagnant. And some raids didn't seem so bad a bargain. He had expected to do them anyway. "Just...p-please, don't hurt my friends?" He winced, expecting a burst of anger.

"You have made your devotion to them more than clear," the Dark Lord said, sounding almost bored. "You won't be expected to hurt your friends. But if they attack me and my side, we will have no choice but to defend ourselves, and..._accidents _happen."

"It is more than enough, my Lord. I appreciate your kindness," Peter breathed, the guilt over betraying his friends disappearing. After all, he was protecting them!

"Well, then..." Voldemort smiled again. "Welcome to my followers, Peter Pettigrew."

Peter bowed deeply.

"And for your cheek...as amusing as it was..._CRUCIO!"_

The pain was excruciating. His nerves were on fire and his mind a mess. Peter screamed in utter agony, twisting and turning on the floor by the Dark Lord's feet. Through the haze of pain, doubt and blinding fear rose to the surface, but some part of him also thought the Dark Lord had a right to punish him. The pain stopped as suddenly as it had begun, and Peter gasped in relief as he could think clearly again.

It was worth it, he decided, coughing. The pain was nothing against the future they could gain. He had made the right choice, he told himself, heart beating wildly against his ribcage as he struggled for breath. But, a small part of his conscience knew that, right choice or not – and this part of him wasn't so sure – it was far too late to go back.

He'd made his bed, and now he had to lie in it.

* * *

**14 October**

"...We have managed to substitute about half of the recruits we lost in the attacks on Plymouth and London. Unfortunately, most of the replacements are applicants we rejected the first time around," Frank finished his report with a heavy sigh.

"Which means, the Auror force is a lot weaker than it could have been," Alice finished for her husband. "And the surviving Aurors have vowed revenge, and some of them are well on their way to becoming as ruthless as the Death Eaters themselves. We have Mind Healers who are speaking to them, but..." She gave Moody a helpless look.

"...Our efforts are useless since Barty Crouch is egging the Aurors on instead of calming them down," Mad-Eye finished gruffly. "He's really becoming a problem, Dumbledore. Several of the Aurors prefer to defer to him rather than Don, and he constantly undermines our authority. And unfortunately, as Department Head of the Magical Law Enforcement, he has the right to do it."

"Who's Don?" Buffy asked Sirius in a hushed whisper.

"Don Blake," Sirius answered. "Head of the Aurors."

"Unfortunately, Alastor, I am afraid we cannot do anything about Barty," Dumbledore said. "Only Minister Tool has that power, and I'm afraid demoting Barty would make Brutus Tool even more unpopular than he already is. Barty is very loved by the public, while the Minister is treading on dangerous grounds. The most widespread opinion seems to be he's not doing enough against Voldemort."

"Do you think Tool will be voted out of office?" Samantha wondered.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Not yet. Though if things continue to go badly, and Barty rallies more support, we may very well see_ him_ as Minister of Magic, sooner, rather than later."

As one, the room shuddered: Barty Crouch was not very loved by the Order, as they thought his means in dealing with the Death Eaters were far too cruel and too alike to Voldemort's own methods for comfort. It was a fine line they all walked - when did justice become vengeance? When did the end stop justifying the means? And Barty Crouch was coming dangerously close to crossing it, if he hadn't already. The only question was how many 'good' people he would manage to bring with him over the line.

"Unless there is anything else on the agenda, I would like to add my own report," Dumbledore continued after a long moment of silence. "As you are aware, the reason I did not arrive to the scenes of battle, was a floo call from Madame Maxine, of Beauxbatons School of Witchracft and Wizardry."

In his corner, Moody grumbled slightly to himself, still not very pleased with the Headmaster for abandoning them when he was needed.

"Monique de Mort, wife of Philippe de Mort, a well-known French Ministry official, was murdered, and an item stolen from his manor: A book. A book I, to my dismay, believe is now in Voldemort's hands.

"What book?" Marlene McKinnon asked, leaning forward. "And why is it so bad if Voldemort has it?"

"The book has no name. But it is old, so old it is barely more than a myth at this point. But it does exist, of that I am now sure. The only reason knowledge about it has faded into obscurity is that the book seems to have a life of its own," Dumbledore sighed heavily. "People who come upon it become...obsessed by it, for lack of a better word. So obsessed they are willing to do anything to get their hands on it, including stealing, murder, and much else."

"What does it contain?" Caradoc Dearborn asked, eyes narrowed. "And is everyone affected by the book? Is there a pattern?"

"I suspect there is, but I have not managed to find out what. Weak minded people is a possibility. But then Voldemort would not be affected. Say what you want about Tom, but weak minded, he is not."

"That doesn't really mean anything," Remus cut in, "unless strong minded people are unable to hold the book. Just because Voldemort has it, doesn't mean he's affected by whatever makes people fanatical about."

"You are quite right, of course," Dumbledore agreed. "I never thought of it that way before."

"You still haven't told us what the book says," James reminded the Headmaster, whose expression grew tired.

"I am not entirely certain," Dumbledore admitted. "But it is rumoured it holds knowledge of magic from the beginning of time, knowledge long forgotten."

"Merlin's beard..." Edgar Bones mumbled, eyes horrified. "To possess that...if You-Know-Who has it..."

"...We're doomed," Fabian Prewett finished grimly, the jokester for once serious as he exchanged looks with his twin, Gideon.

"This is exactly what we did not need," Gideon said. "An even more powerful You-Know-Who."

"I wish it was only the data itself that worried me," Dumbledore continued, voice grave, and the Order's eyes widened.

"There's more?" Lily blurted out.

"Much more. The information the book holds is not just knowledge about spells and magic. They are clues."

"Clues to what?" Marlene asked. "What could possibly be worse?"

"Clues to a source of power, hidden away somewhere, containing all secrets to life, to magic and to immortality. If Voldemort enters it..." Dumbledore closed his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose. "If Voldemort obtains that power...he will become immortal, indestructible. Perhaps Master of Death itself. A near God."

Silence. Absolute silence fell over the room. Then, everyone seemed to stand up at once, arguing amongst themselves, panicking: "How can we stop him?"

"Is this it, then? Is there no hope?"

"We need a miracle!"

Dumbledore tried to calm the Order members down, but failing miserably, as no one seemed open to listening.

"SHUT UP!" Buffy finally yelled loudly over all the other shouting, and everyone seemed to freeze, turning to stare at the small Slayer. "Panicking is not going to help anyone. So Voldemort has the book. It's bad. I get it. It does not mean hope is lost. We need a plan." She turned to Dumbledore who was giving her an approving look. "How long do you think it will take for Voldemort to put the clues together?"

"I have no idea," Dumbledore confessed. "But I don't think it will be easy, even for someone of Tom's calibre."

"That means we have time," Buffy decided, nodding sharply. "Time to plan for all sorts of scenarios, to steal and destroy the book; whatever. I may not be as old as you lot," she said, looking at some of the older Order members, "or as experienced, or as good at magic. But I've been through my fair share of battles and apocalypses, and I do know giving up is not a way to avert what's coming."

"Buffy's right," James said. "We need a plan."

"Right...so...any suggestions?" Buffy asked. "Do we have any spies in Voldemort's ranks?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. We have some informants, but no one undercover."

"Okay. Well, do we know who stole the book?" Buffy asked. "He – or she – would probably be our best bet to find out where Voldemort keeps it, how far he's gotten and so on."

"Someone he trusted," Sirius mused out loud. "Someone from Voldemort's inner circle. He wouldn't entrust a mission like that to anyone. Bellatrix?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. Whoever it was must be fairly unknown as a Death Eater: All signs points to that Monique de Mort let the assailant in willingly, and Bellatrix Lestrange is far from inconspicuous. Also, Monique was killed by muggle means, something Bellatrix would not do."

"An acquaintance, perhaps?" Lily suggested. "Someone Monique saw as a friend?"

"Possible, but not likely. Monique did not have that many friends – she rarely went anywhere without the company of her husband, who was the one with all connections. I doubt Monique was little more than a trophy wife."

"Figures," James snorted. "Some pureblood families..." He shook his head sadly.

"T-the husband?" Peter wondered. "Could he have done it?"

"Several witnesses saw him at work when the attack took place."

"Well, we should make a list of possible suspects; all members we know are in Voldemort's inner circle – every Death Eater overall, just in case," Buffy said. "We should also try and research the book a bit more – maybe try and track down previous owners? Find out what makes people obsess about it?"

"Excellent idea!" Dumbledore beamed. "I happen to know Monique came upon the book during a trip to Germany. Let me check with Philippe and see who he visited while there, and we will speak more of this during next meeting. I will also try and see if we can find a way to infiltrate Voldemort's ranks."

* * *

**17 October**

"Yeouch!" Belinda yelped as Madame Pomfrey applied a healing balm to her shoulder. "Careful!"

"I am being very gentle, Miss Greengrass," Madame Pomfrey huffed. "What curse was it again?"

"Not a curse," Belinda lied. "I tripped and scratched myself on a suit of armour."

"A highly unlikely story, considering your entire back is one giant sore, no skin to speak of," Madame Pomfrey frowned. "Who did it?"

"Kirk and his pals," Belinda muttered. "Don't say anything, please. It will just make things worse."

The door to the hospital wing flew open and Lucan entered, followed by a worried looking Mandy. Belinda groaned. "Mandy told me," Lucan said, eyes flashing. "It was Kirk wasn't it? I'll rip him apart – "

"Mr. Davis!" Madame Pomfrey scolded. "Mind your language!"

"Why did you tell him?" Belinda asked Mandy. "I specifically asked you not to."

Mandy gave the Slytherin an apologetic look. "Well, he's my best friend. He could see I was holding something back."

"Great..." Belinda muttered as Lucan grabbed her hand, being all fussy, muttering under his breath about what he'd like to do to the Slytherin scum that did this.

"You were a witness to the curse that caused this atrocious injury?" Madame Pomfrey asked Mandy sharply.

"I'm sort of the reason it happened," Mandy admitted. "Barret Kirk and some of the other Slytherin Quidditch team members were mouthing off; insulting me about not having Sirius to protect me anymore, and that I better watch my back and stuff. It was no big deal, really, but Belinda heard and got all huffy about it."

"I did not get all huffy!" Belinda protested. "I just wanted to make them stop!"

"And expose yourself to their ire instead, you mean?" Mandy said dryly. "You know they have it out for you, because of Lucan."

"Well, it's not my fault they have a problem with who I'm dating," Belinda muttered sulkily. "And before you say anything, I'm not going to pretend to break up with you," she warned Lucan who had opened his mouth.

"It's not just mashed potatoes anymore, Bel," Lucan tried. "It was a really bad curse this time!"

"I can handle it," Belinda said stubbornly. "I'm not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing me fold."

"It's about pride?" Lucan gaped, incredulous.

"More about the politics of Slytherin house," Belinda corrected. "Breaking up with you won't stop them, Luke. It will just make them smug and conceited on top of everything else. They won't seriously harm me."

"And what do you call that?" Lucan gestured towards Belinda's back.

"Not permanent," Belinda said calmly. "Hurts like hell, but it will heal overnight. No permanent scarring. Right?" She asked Madame Pomfrey, suddenly worried. So, yes, she was slightly shallow, but who could blame her, with her looks?

"No permanent scarring," Madame Pomfrey assured her, rolling her eyes. Teenagers these days...no sense of self-preservation - as long as they _looked_ good, everything was fine and dandy...

Mandy sniggered. "Happy to know you have your priorities straight."

"Well, I'm not planning on letting you – either of you – out of my sight," Lucan told Mandy and Belinda sternly.

"Oh, my knight in shining armour...will you accompany me to the loo as well?" Mandy quipped and Lucan reddened.

"I'm glad I have such a chivalrous boyfriend," Belinda said. "But you can't follow us night and day. You – Ravenclaw. Me – Slytherin," she said, pointing between Lucan and herself. "I have my own common room, and my own sleeping quarters."

"Oh, now I get it!" Mandy sniggered. "This is all an excuse to get in between Belinda's sheets!" As one, the two girls burst out laughing, while Madame Pomfrey let out a disapproving sound as she finished applying the balm, though even her lips were twitching.

"Oh, shut up," Lucan muttered, cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

* * *

**French translations**

Non – No.  
Excusez-moi – Excuse me.  
Oui – Yes.  
Merci – Thanks.  
Pourquoi? – Why?

* * *

_**Published: **__30/06 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- In Harry Potter canon, Barty Crouch Senior was a serious contender for the Ministry post until the truth about his son's Death Eater status leaked out.


	10. Lies

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**22 October**

"Where are you going? Are you doing something tonight?" Samantha asked Peter, who was just about to leave the apartment. "It's just…well, I can't help but feel we've sort of drifted apart. I know it's mostly my fault. I haven't been all that attentive, lately, but things are calming down with the store now. And it's Sunday, so I have time. To do something, just you and me." Samantha blushed and Peter inwardly cursed.

He had gotten a letter from Avery which said Voldemort wanted to see him, and he had to leave. But how could he do that, without making Sam suspicious? Why now? Why did she suddenly have to have time off now, when he needed her to be busy?

Suddenly, he felt quite angry: Did she expect him to have no life of his own? To just sit around on his arse and wait for her to graciously take some time to spend with him? He wasn't a damn housewife! "Just out," Peter muttered, swallowing most of his ire and avoiding looking Samantha in the eyes, and as such not noticing her frown.

"Oh." Samantha bit her lip. "Is it important? Because I made dinner."

Peter looked up then, feeling very tired, all of sudden. Looking at Samantha's hopeful face, he realised he felt…nothing. None of the butterflies in the stomach, none of the love he'd felt when he and Samantha had first gotten together. Suddenly, he understood his and Samantha's relationship hadn't been built on anything that could last: The two had gotten together because they had needed someone who understood the other, who understood what it was like to be an outsider, needed someone to depend on.

But things were different now.

Samantha was right – they had drifted apart: Samantha had the store, had found confidence and friends. Peter had found Voldemort. He didn't need Samantha anymore – oh, he still held some affection for her – for what they had been. But he didn't love her.

"Yes, it sort of is. It's…a job interview," Peter lied, and he found it was easy to. "I know I'm helping you with the store and all, but I need to do something else, as well."

Samantha looked disappointed and slightly suspicious as well, as she looked through the window, peering into the darkness outside. "An interview? Nine o'clock at night?"

"He didn't have time any other day this week – this was the only time he could squeeze me in," Peter said, shrugging.

Samantha looked down at her feet. "Oh," she said again. "Well…good luck."

"Thanks." Peter opened the door, stepping outside the apartment. "Don't wait up," was the last thing Samantha heard, before the door closed behind him, leaving silence in his wake.

* * *

Voldemort tapped his spider-like fingers impatiently on his arm-rest as Peter Pettigrew finished snivelling and bowing in front of his throne. "Get to it, Pettigrew," he said, bored. "What do you have to report?"

After one last bow – Voldemort inwardly rolled his eyes – Peter straightened up, clearing his throat importantly. "W-well," the former Gryffindor stammered. "I-I don't know all that much…my Lord," he hastily added.

Annoyed, Voldemort barely held back from cursing the idiot. Why had he wanted to recruit this moron, again? "The people in the Order," he began, his red eyes narrowed into slits, "is there anyone who might be convinced to join us?"

Peter looked affronted, and Voldemort's left eye twitched in irritation. "A-aren't I enough, my Lord?" He muttered, sounding slightly peevish and upset, wringing his hands. "Aren't my loyalty to your c-cause enough? W-why involve anyone else?"

"Of course you are," Voldemort soothed, while coming to the conclusion that it was no wonder Peter's friends didn't 'appreciate' him. If this was the height of his intelligence... Still, he hadn't recruited Pettigrew for his brains. Although, he added to himself sourly, that didn't change the fact he had a feeling Pettigrew would only become more aggravating as time wore on. "I recruited you first for a reason, after all. However, the more people we can convince to join our cause, the better. As it is now, we are a minority. And I won't deny that stealing witches and wizards straight from under Dumbledore's nose appeals to me greatly. One less person loyal to his Order means less trouble for us."

Peter frowned, chewing his lips, face scrunched up in thought. Voldemort's fingers twitched in want to grab his wand and throw a '_Crucio'_ on him for his incompetence. But it was too soon to rule over Pettigrew with fear – some flies were best caught with honey, and Pettigrew was one of them – for now, the Dark Lord added silently to himself.

"Well…I don't know the other Order members all that well – " Voldemort barely held back a frustrated scream. " – But of my friends….maybe Remus Lupin?" Peter offered hesitantly. "I know he has trouble finding decent work… And perhaps Sirius Black…he's very loyal to his brother, even if they are estranged…so if you could use that somehow...?"

Voldemort leaned back against his backrest. The werewolf and the wayward son of the Blacks, he thought musingly. Yes…this could work out very well. He gave Pettigrew a pleased smirk. "Thank you, Peter…you have been a great help."

Peter practically swelled up with pride.

"Unless you have anything else to report, you may leave," Voldemort dismissed, but Pettigrew didn't move. The Dark Lord's slits narrowed. He may not be willing to curse Pettigrew like his other followers, but that did not mean he was exempt from punishment.

"T-there was one more thing, my Lord," Peter said cautiously. "I just remembered…"

"Yes?" Voldemort snapped.

"Dumbledore said something about…about a book that you had?"

Voldemort froze._ "What_?" He hissed and Peter flinched.

"I-I don't know much else…just that they're planning on stealing it and try to find out more about it by c-contacting previous owners. I-if you don't mind me asking…what _is_ the book, exactly?"

"None of your business," Voldemort said curtly, plans swirling around in his mind. He would have to have all the known previous owners assassinated, so they couldn't talk...hide the book more carefully…hurry up with deciphering it… "Leave me," he ordered Pettigrew, and this time, the little idiot had the sense not to linger. Once he was gone, he summoned Evan Rosier.

"Bring me one of the muggle prisoners," he commanded imperiously, voice snappish. "I find myself in need of some…_stress relief."_

Rosier bowed deep. "As my Lord wishes," he said, before hurrying out of the room, perhaps sensing his Master's dark mood.

While waiting for Rosier to return, Voldemort fingered his wand, red eyes flashing angrily in the gloomy chambers. "Damn you, Dumbledore…" He hissed, vowing that this time, the Headmaster would not succeed in thwarting his plans. This time, too much was at stake.

* * *

**25 October**

Regulus frowned, staring at the letter he'd received, which had gone up in flames the moment he finished reading it, leaving only ashes behind. He felt proud that the Dark Lord had entrusted him with another mission. Still, this particular assignment made his stomach lurch in a not entirely comfortable way. It felt…wrong, somehow, against his family morals. And yet…he didn't owe Sirius anything – so why did his heart twinge?

He remembered his brother's words from the last time they had seen each other, on the platform of nine and three quarters: How friends and family help each other… _'If…if you ever need me – for anything – I promise I'll be there.' _Regulus clenched his hand into a fist, trying to put Sirius' earnest expression out of his mind. _'I love you, Reg, and I don't have any other reason than that._' "You're a fool, Sirius..." Regulus closed his eyes tiredly.

He was not all that enthusiastic about this mission; about using his brother's naive Gryffindor mindset for his own ends...but he would do it. You didn't say no to the Dark Lord. And if this mission succeeded - Regulus tried to ignore that little voice inside him which said Sirius would rather die before joining Voldemort - if this mission succeeded, they could be together again, as a family. Like brothers.

"Oi, Greengrass!" He yelled, having made up his mind.

Belinda Greengrass who sat studying alone in a corner of the common rose, no other Slytherin coming near to where she was sitting, looked up from her parchment. "Yes, Black?" The blonde asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You hang out with Mandy Walker, don't you?"

Belinda's eyes narrowed. "What's it to you?"

"Just wondered whether you know if she's planning on meeting that good-for-nothing brother of mine during the Hogsmeade weekend," Regulus drawled. "Family business."

"As far as I know...probably," Belinda admitted after a short pause, trying to see through Regulus cold Slytherin mask for some other motive behind his question.

Regulus gave her a smirk. "Thanks."

Belinda nodded sharply, before turning back to her studies. Regulus leaned back in his chair, eyes blank. His mind was made up...he'd do it. It was the right thing to do – this mission could possibly bring his family back together...make them brothers again.

So why did he feel like he'd just swallowed a sour lemon?

* * *

**28 October**

"Hey, handsome!" Mandy said, stepping up to Sirius who'd risen from the table he was sitting at in the Three Broomsticks when he saw her.

"It's been awhile," Sirius mumbled, hugging her close. "How are things at Hogwarts?" He asked once they finally untangled themselves from the embrace and sat down, sipping at the butterbeer Sirius had ordered.

"Oh, you know, same old, same old," Mandy said airily. "But Lucan and Belinda keep things interesting, for sure."

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm…the Slytherins aren't very happy about that relationship, for obvious reasons," Mandy said. "But the three of us are trying to watch each other's backs, so we're handling it."

Sirius frowned. "You're being careful, right? Keeping yourself out of trouble? Not doing anything stupid?"

Mandy let an eyebrow rise. "I could ask you the same thing. I read about the attacks in the Daily Prophet, you know. And I know you've been involved in at least one skirmish. And yet, you say nothing about it in your letters, even when I ask. I understand the need to keep some things secret. But surely not _everything?"_

Sirius refused to meet her eyes. "Well, there's nothing much to say."

Mandy snorted. "Liar. Is this a trust thing again? Because we know how the whole lack of trust worked out last time."

Sirius winced as he remembered how Mandy had broken things off with him when he acted like a jealous prat about Lucan. "It's not about trust. I just don't want to worry you."

"Well, then you're failing – miserably," Mandy said calmly. "Not knowing anything makes me worry _more,_ not less. So spill!"

Sirius sighed. "Alright. For starters, James got hurt in the attack on Plymouth – badly. But he's fine now," he quickly added when he saw Mandy's eyes widen in concern. "No one else you know had gotten wounded seriously, though the Aurors had to recruit new people, to make up for the losses."

"What happened to James?"

"A building fell on top of him. He has recovered completely, though, and he's been in a good mood," he assured Mandy as her eyes darkened. "Milking his injury for all its worth - you know James, I'm sure you can imagine."

Mandy, worry gone now, snorted, rolling her eyes. "Yeah. Gosh, he's such a little attention seeker sometimes."

"Well, it paid off," Sirius said dryly. "He had Lily following his every command."

"She never figured it out?" Mandy gasped and Sirius shook his head.

"No. I think she started to suspect, but that's when James stopped playing martyr, so she never completely caught on."

Mandy's eyes twinkled. "What do you think Lily would do if she _did_ find out?"

Sirius burst out laughing. "Do you even have to ask? I'd pay to see what she'll put James through, if that comes out!"

"Well, then, I think I have a letter to Lily to write, were I to…_accidentally_…let something slip…" Mandy blinked innocently as Sirius cried tears of laughter.

"James won't know what hit him."

After finishing their butterbeers, the couple exited the Three Broomsticks and walked across the village a few times, holding hands and just enjoying each other's company, chatting amiably.

Sirius and Mandy were involved in a heavy bout of snogging in the middle of the road, when Sirius suddenly heard his name spoken in a hushed whisper. Reluctantly removing his lips from Mandy's, Sirius turned around and saw a pale looking Regulus, half hiding behind the corner of an empty store.

"You should go see what he wants," Mandy told him, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Well, I came here to be with you," Sirius said, though he was chewing on his lips, clearly torn between his brother and girlfriend.

"And you have been with me," Mandy said, patting his chest. "I should be heading back anyway, and as Head Girl, make sure everyone else does too. Regulus is your brother, and if he wants to spend time with you, you should. Maybe mend some fences?"

Sirius sighed, glancing towards Regulus who looked sort of frightened, eyes darting around, as though he was expecting someone to jump out of nowhere and attack him. "Alright." He gave Mandy one last peck on the lips. "Write me, okay?"

"Of course." With one last wave, Mandy left, and Sirius slowly walked towards Regulus, a neutral expression on his face.

"Reg…what can I do for you?"

To Sirius' immense worry and confusion, Regulus' lower lip began to tremble, and tears appeared in his eyes. "I need your help, Siri," he gasped out. "And you said…" He swallowed heavily several times. "You said if I ever needed you – for anything – you'd help me."

"Of course I will!" Sirius exclaimed, pulling his younger brother into a hug, extremely worried now. Regulus hated to show weakness, especially to Sirius, and for him to act like this - something was clearly very wrong. "What's going on, Reggie? What happened?"

Regulus sniffed, burying his face in Sirius's robes. "I-I think I did something stupid, and I'm not sure h-how to get out of it."

"Shh…calm down," Sirius soothed. "Tell me everything.

"I'm in trouble, Siri. Big trouble." Regulus stepped back from Sirius, eyes lowered as he pulled up his left sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark and Sirius jerked back in shock. Regulus smiled humourlessly. "Like I said – big trouble." He hiccupped. "Will you turn me in, now? I know you're an Auror…"

Sirius clenched his jaw. "You're my brother – that goes before any duty to the Ministry. How long…?" He trailed off.

Regulus pulled down his sleeve, covering the Dark Mark again. "Since your seventh year, about a week before the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin."

Sirius hissed. "Damn it, Reg!"

Regulus averted his eyes. "I just wanted to please our parents…" He whispered softly. "After you ran away…things became _really _hard! They wanted me to be everything you weren't, and more! You left me in Hell, Sirius!"

Sirius flinched as guilt filled his heart and mind. Regulus was right. When he ran off to live with James, he hadn't thought about what that would mean for Regulus: That the demands their parents had on him would only get transferred to his little brother. He had been selfish.

"I don't blame you, you know," Regulus said, sounding tired, but he couldn't quite hide the bitterness in his voice. "I wish I could have run too…say no. But I'm not you, Sirius. I'm not that brave. And when Y-You-Know-Who demanded I joined him…" He gave Sirius a pleading glance. "I couldn't say no. They would have killed me!"

'_You could have come to me,'_ Sirius wanted to scream. _'I would have protected you!'_ But he knew that was bullshit. He and Regulus had barely been on speaking terms, if that. And what could he have done, honestly? "Why come to me now?" Sirius asked. "Why not before?"

"It wasn't that bad before," Regulus whispered. "I just had the mark, that's it. Y-You-Know-Who didn't ask me to do anything special, just stay under the radar. But now – " he let out a sob " – now he wants me to kill! Please, Sirius, you must help me! I have nowhere else to go," he finished, voice breaking as he stared at his brother, a miserable expression on his face.

Sirius held out his arms, and Regulus practically fell into them, crying. "Of course I'll help you," Sirius promised, rubbing his back. "There was never any question about it. Anything you need, Reg. Anything."

With his face buried in his brother's robes, Sirius couldn't see Regulus' eyes were suddenly completely dry, even as he kept on sobbing, shoulders shaking. He couldn't see the regret lining his face, as he realized Sirius had fallen for his act, hook, line and sinker. All Sirius could see was that his brother needed him, and that he would help.

'_Because that's what brothers do…'_ Regulus thought, feeling quite a lot of self-hate at the moment. _'They help each other.' _His eyes slipped shut in anguish_. 'Merlin, Sirius, please, forgive me for this…'_

* * *

**31 October**

"W-why are we here again?" Peter wondered, shivering in his black Death Eater robes. It was Halloween, and, though he didn't say it, Peter would much rather be joining James, Sirius and Remus on their night out, drinking in London.

Avery and Rosier exchanged looks from beneath their masks, rolling their eyes at each other.

"We already told you," Antonin Dolohov, the Death Eater in charge of this raid hissed at Peter, irritated beyond belief. "This family is very well known for opposing the Dark Lord's Ministry policies. And," he smirked, "they're muggleborn."

"A-and what sort of policies would that be, exactly?" Peter stuttered out.

"Look, Peter, don't worry about it," Avery said, slightly impatient. "Just trust that the Dark Lord knows what he's doing and that the people living here deserve what they're going to get."

Peter gulped and nodded, realizing he'd pushed his companions far enough – if the Dark Lord didn't want him to know, surely he had a reason. And it was not his place to question, he reminded himself. He pushed down that little voice that said his current place with his new 'friends' was far worse than it ever had been with the Marauders and the Order.

"Remember, no interfering," Rosier warned Peter as he prepared to blow up the door. A silent spell later, and the door was blown off its hinges and the three Death Eaters ran inside, Peter following at a slightly slower pace.

Peter watched as a man, dressed in pyjamas, ran down the stairs, wand in hand. Before he could so much as open his mouth, Avery hit him with a "CRUCIO!" and he sank down into a heap, screaming in pain.

"Ralph!" A female voice yelled, and another occupant of the house, this one a woman, ran down the stairs, and, Rosier with a sadistic smirk and a nonchalant flick with his wand, she tumbled down the stairs: Her left leg was broken and bent at the opposite angle of what was natural. A guttural scream left her mouth.

"Millie!" The man, Ralph rasped out, stretching out a hand towards her. With a bored look on his face, Rosier cut it off with a severing charm.

With their screams of shock and pain, Peter could only watch, both in horror and fascination, unable to look away from the gruesome scene as the three Death Eaters continued their torture. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, and just from watching, adrenaline rose in his veins.

As Avery broke the woman's fingers, one by one, Peter couldn't help but wonder what it would be like – to have that sort of power over a person; to be able to make them scream. His fingers twitched with a longing to grab his wand and join in, desperately wanting to know - but he held back – he was here to watch and learn, only.

"Do you see the power we hold?" Dolohov asked, his voice barely a whisper, but Peter could still hear it, even over all the screaming. "They don't stand a chance against us. Resistance is futile." As he said that, the man of the house, Ralph, bodily threw himself at Rosier, trying to stop him from doing further damage to his wife.

"Watch and learn," Dolohov muttered as the man felled Rosier to the floor, beating at him with bloodied fists as his wand had been broken. Avery moved over to them and lifted Ralph up by his neck, giving Rosier – his face expressionless - the place he needed to slash him open, from his groin to his throat, with a silent curse.

Millie let out a shocked gurgle, completely traumatized by the sight, and from the black look on her face, Peter didn't think she even registered the green light speeding towards her, courtesy of Dolohov. "Our work here is done," he said, nodding towards the door and they exited the house. In the distance, police sirens could be heard, the muggle neighbours having been alerted to the screams.

"_Morsmordre!"_ Avery yelled, his wand pointed at the sky, and the Dark Mark appeared above the house, its signature green colour casting ominous light at the surrounding area, illuminating the house of death below. "So, Peter…what did you think?" Avery asked, noticing Rosier and Dolohov both fingering their wands: If Pettigrew showed even the slightest doubt…the slightest inkling that he wasn't comfortable with this…well, they had their orders, and they had no problems following them. In fact, getting rid of Pettigrew would be a relief in many ways.

"T-that was…" Peter's legs trembled, along with his voice… "That was…invigorating," he finally breathed out, eyes wide and shining. The three Death Eaters let their eyebrows rise. "D-don't get me w-wrong," Peter hastily said, "it w-was _disgusting._ But…_wow._" He seemed to be almost floating, still on a high from the adrenaline.

Rosier barked out a laugh. "Well, Pettigrew, maybe you've got more guts than we thought."

"C-can I join in, n-next time?" Peter asked, both terrified and exited at the notion.

Dolohov smirked. "Sure, Pettigrew, sure," he said, before apparating away, Avery, Rosier and Peter following, right as two police cars appeared from around the corner of the street, and Aurors portkeyed into the garden.

Too late, as usual.

* * *

**2 November**

"Thank you all for coming," Dumbledore said with a wide smile to the Order once everyone had arrived to the gathering room below the Hog's Head.

"What's this about, Dumbledore?" Frank asked the Headmaster. "Not that I don't want to be here, but Alice and I are still trying to figure out who killed Ralph and Millie Daniels on Halloween. The Ministry is in a bit of an uproar about it." Nobody noticed Peter's flinch.

"I realise it is a bit of short notice, and Sirius, I apologize for interrupting the birthday celebrations," he gave the startled looking Sirius a nod – the Gryffindor hadn't been aware the leader of the Order knew about his birthday, though he guessed he shouldn't be surprised…That, and the confetti James had in his hair was kind of a giveaway. "Unfortunately, this cannot wait."

"Have you found out anything more about that book?" Lily asked.

"Yes, and no," Dumbledore said. "The German Ambassador of Magic has been murdered, which means our only lead to finding previous owners of the book is gone – he was the one who had it before it landed with Monique de Mort."

Groans were heard around the table. "Do we know who did it?" Edgar Bones asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore said heavily. "Vampires. It is unfortunate that Voldemort has managed to recruit them to his side. Which brings me to the matter of this meeting: I want a small convoy to set out and try to convince them otherwise. Maybe there are some clans which haven't yet given him their allegiance."

"Um…excuse me?" Buffy raised her hand. "But how do you know Voldemort sent them? It could just be a coincidence that they killed him – not defending vampires," she hurriedly added, "'cause, hello, Vampire Slayer, but from what I know of them, they're not exactly thugs for hire. All – or most – they care about is their next snack and chaos. Also, clans? From my experience, with a few exceptions, vampires mostly move about alone, unless they have a 'mate', stay with their sire, or live in a nest of other vampires. And nests don't usually last that long; vampires don't like being given orders, so revolts against the 'leader' are bound to happen, sooner or later."

"You will find, in our own dimension, vampires are a little more organized," Dumbledore said, and Buffy frowned. She clearly had a lot to learn still, about the dimensional differences. Maybe she should have made an effort to find this out sooner?

"They do live in clans, have a clearly defined order, and yes, the clan leader is sometimes challenged by another vampire in the clan, but there is almost never an all-out-revolt," Dumbledore continued to explain. "But yes, they do like their chaos, and, of course, food. However, they mostly feed on muggles, since they are easy prey, which is why the death of the German Ambassador of Magic is an irregularity."

"And hence, why you think Voldemort is behind it," Buffy nodded. "I get it. Still, it doesn't explain why you want us to talk with them."

"Weren't you listening?" Mad-Eye asked the blonde, with a slight growl.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yes. But you don't negotiate with vampires – again, with a few exceptions," she added, thinking about Spike helping her against Angel – Angelus – when the bleach-blonde wanted Drusilla back. And Spike had taken off as soon as he had her, leaving Buffy to fend for herself against Angelus, who had been winning at the time. "You_ kill_ them."

"If we can get them to aid us against Voldemort, it would be a great victory against him," Gideon Prewett said with a slight frown at the Slayer.

"Yeah," his brother, Fabian agreed. "What's the problem? In fact – "

" – Fab and I – " Gideon continued.

" – Are volunteering for this mission – " Fabian added.

" – Should be exciting," Gideon finished with a grin.

"Until they_ kill _you," Remus interrupted, and Gideon's grin faded. "Buffy's right. You can't negotiate with vampires. For the first, they're dead. And for the second, they _have no souls. _With one exception,_" _he added after a second or two, in respect for Buffy's former boyfriend: Though that had ended badly, he knew Angel was a part of Buffy's life, even if he didn't necessarily have to like it.

And to be honest, he was sort of grateful the vampires had joined Voldemort: It would keep Buffy's attention from the Death Eaters, and to let her go back to fighting what she was used to rather than other humans could only be a good thing right now. Remus had tried to bring up the subject regarding killing again, at various times, but Buffy always changed the subject, clearly seeing the matter as closed.

To let her to focus on fighting actual monsters could only help her; hopefully it would make her see the difference between demons and humans again, and allow her to regain some of the pieces of herself that she had lost – namely, her morals. He inwardly sighed. This war was changing them all, and sometimes, he wondered if joining the Order had been the right decision. Sometimes, he just wanted to run away from it all.

"Some would say the same about you," someone muttered, and Remus flinched.

"_Oi!"_ Sirius exclaimed. "Who said that?"

"No fighting, please," Dumbledore hurriedly said, before an argument could break out. "Buffy, your thoughts, please. Why do you not think we can negotiate with vampires? Your points have all been noted, but as dead and soulless as they are, they are still capable of rational thought."

"More than you, it seems," James muttered. "No offense, Headmaster, but even I can see why this is a bad idea." Lily nodded her agreement.

"They are capable of rational thought, yes," Buffy agreed, beginning to explain. "But logic says they'll join whoever has the most power. That does not necessarily mean Voldemort, no, but he can do something we can't."

"And what is that?" Alice asked, head cocked thoughtfully.

"Offer them something," Buffy said bluntly. "He can offer them chaos, and battle, bodies, and blood – something vampires crave. What do we have? Peace, sunshine and puppies. Maybe abort the Vampire Hunting program, or some inane Ministry Degree that will give them a little more freedom than they have now, which they won't care about. The vamps we need to worry about will do what they want, when they want it, no matter our laws."

"She's right," Caradoc Dearborn spoke. "Darn it all, but Summers is right. It's a dead end. Excuse the bad pun. All we'll manage to do is give them _more_ motivation to join You-Know-Who, not the opposite."

"Well, crap," Alice noted. "So…I guess we'll meet vampires on the battlefield, then."

"Great. More problems to worry about," Frank frowned. "Like we don't have enough of those already." Alice squeezed his hand.

"Worrying about the vamps is my job," Buffy said. "You focus on the Death Eaters, and I'll handle the undead. It's sort of what I do, in case you've forgotten." To be honest, it was sort of exciting. It had been too long since she had a good bout of hand-to-hand fighting against what she was used to – vampires. Fighting Death Eaters was all well and good, but she missed fighting things that went 'grr' and bumpy and she was actually looking forward to it.

She was worried she was turning into someone she couldn't live with – ever since James got hurt in Plymouth, Buffy found she didn't care anymore if a Death Eater got hurt or killed – quite the opposite. Before, she used pity them and the choices they'd made that had lead them to join Voldemort, but now, she only felt they had themselves to blame. And when she read someone else had been killed in the Daily Prophet, or heard about civilian causalities, she felt relief it wasn't someone she knew, rather than mourn for them as innocent victims of the war.

Remus had noticed, and was clearly worried about her sudden lack of morals. Buffy didn't see it like that...and to be honest, that worried her. She was thinking things that would have made her feel disgust if another person had said it. But she didn't know how to stop feeling like that, or if she even wanted to...and that was what scared her the most.

Of course, she would never admit that to anyone – until she knew what was going on with her, she would act like nothing was the matter: She had to deal with this on her own – this wasn't something anyone could help her with. These were her thoughts, and her feelings. No one else's. Hopefully, dusting a couple of vamps would help her see things more clearly.

She sighed. In Sunnydale, she had never had those problems. Not that she wanted to go back, or anything...her life there seemed so far away now. But things had been easier there, it had been plain to see who were the bad guys: Humans – good. Not human – evil (mostly). Here, it wasn't so simple. It was human against human, and Buffy felt out of place.

Before actually joining in, it had seemed so obvious that she should help. She was the Slayer after all. But what she now realised was that Slayer was not the same thing as being a killer. But kill she had, and it was becoming more and more clear she was not meant to fight humans, and she worried where it would take her...where it had already taken her.

"Well, then, I suppose that was all I had to say," Dumbledore said, feeling very tired all of sudden. Buffy was right, of course – they had nothing to offer the vampires and to try and negotiate with them as he first had intended…well, he could see how that would be quite dumb. It didn't make it easier to swallow – it felt like a battle lost, and in a way, it was. "You're free to go back to whatever it is you were doing."

The Order split up, leaving one by one, as to not bring attention to themselves, and the Marauders all walked to a corner booth up in the bar, none of them feeling like celebrating anymore.

"I think I'll sneak up to the castle," Sirius said after awhile, Peter having already excused himself and left. "Visit Mandy."

"Well, I'm going to head home," Lily said. "I start work early tomorrow. James, you coming?"

James nodded, and both Potters stood up, saying their goodbyes.

"Have fun with Mandy," Buffy told Sirius, standing up as well, along with Remus. "Say hi from us. I think we're going to head home too, right?" She gave Remus a questioning look, and the werewolf nodded.

"Yes. Happy birthday, Padfoot."

"Thanks," Sirius said, watching them as they left, before he too, stood, and began the trek up towards the school. But despite what he'd told his friends, Mandy was not the one he was going to see: Regulus was.

* * *

**3 November**

Remus sighed, grimacing as he began to scrub yet another plate clean. The place he was dishwashing at was the same he'd worked at after he quit school after his father's death, and he was grateful he'd been accepted back. Soon, he wouldn't have any income, let alone time to work at all: His mission to the werewolves was almost upon him.

He furtively glanced towards the entrance to the bar to see if anyone was looking, before pulling out his wand and casting a cleaning charm on the remaining plates. He couldn't even bring himself to feel guilty: He was exhausted.

"Hello, Lupin," a voice suddenly said from behind him and Remus jumped, wand pointed and a spell sent off that the voice's owner was barely able to duck.

"Nice reflexes," an eyebrow was raised.

"Who the Hell are you?" Remus spat, wand not faltering for a second.

"I'm Gibbon – you've met Wilkes," the man nodded towards the shadows and a second man stepped out: A man Remus recognized from his days at Hogwarts.

Remus eyes narrowed. "I assume you want something?" He asked. "What did you do to the people in the bar?" He'd suddenly noticed how quiet everything was.

"Don't worry," Gibbon said, grinning broadly. "Just a minor sleeping spell. It should wear off in five minutes or so." As he spoke, Wilkes looked around the small, grey backroom where Remus did the dishes with distaste.

"This is where you work?" He asked, nose wrinkled. "Disgusting. Really, Lupin, I thought you were one of the more intelligent students at Hogwarts. This is all you've managed to do with yourself?"

Remus pursed his lips in annoyance. "To be frank with you, _Willie,_ it's none of your business."

Wilkes – Willie's – nostrils flared in anger at the nickname he'd been given while at school. Before he could respond with something that would more than likely turn into an all out verbal and magical brawl, Gibbon cut in: "No offense to your abilities intended, Lupin: It's not your fault this is where you've ended up, of course."

Wilkes took a deep breath, visibly gathering himself. "I agree," he said, albeit stiffly. "The real world is a lot more difficult – especially for werewolves."

To his credit, Remus didn't as much as flinch, though he did pale noticeably. "How did you know?"

Wilkes snorted. "Apart from the fact Slytherins aren't idiots and can put two and two together? It was just a matter of looking at the Ministry's Werewolf Registry. It's right there, in black and white."

"We're not here to threaten you," Gibbon said in what was supposed to be a soothing voice. To Remus, it sounded condescending. "Or make fun. We're just pointing out a few truths, that's all."

"Yeah? And what's that?" Remus asked, head held high.

"That you're better than this," Wilkes said, gesturing around the small room. "That the world is unfair to people like you. That things need to change."

"And I suppose you're the ones who are going to change it?" Remus drawled, cocking his head. "Let me guess – this is the part where you suggest how Voldemort – " Wilkes and Gibbon flinched, " – has the right idea, and if I join him, I could have everything I ever wanted. Money, a 'real' job, justice, fairness, and so on. Am I right?"

Gibbon smirked. "That's right," he drawled back. "I understand it's a big decision to make. We don't want you to be hasty. And we also realise you've only ever seen one side of things – the so-called 'light' side. But what are they doing for you, really? Give us a chance. You might be pleasantly surprised."

Remus gritted his teeth. "The day I join Voldemort is the day – " He pretended to look startled. "Hang on! I can't think of one!" He smiled all too sweetly, before his expression turned to one of smouldering anger. "Get out."

Wilkes raised his hands in surrender. "Like we said, it's your decision. We're not going to force you into anything. Have a...nice evening," he finished, with one last look around the cold, bare room, before apparating away.

"You deserve better," Gibbon repeated. "Remember that." Once he too had apparated away, Remus slumped against the edge of the sink, his stomach churning uncomfortably. Outside, voices could be heard again.

"Oi, Lupin! Are you done lazing about? We need more plates!"

"Coming!" Remus yelled back, sighing as he stared at the spot the two Death Eaters had apparated away from. He didn't for one second believe their lies: Voldemort was not the solution – he never would be. But that didn't mean Wilkes and Gibbon weren't right. He did deserve better!

As he picked up the clean plates, he noticed his hands were shaking, and for good reason – it had suddenly hit him he'd been singled out for Death Eater recruitment. Did they view him as weak? Someone easily influenced? Had they contacted anyone else from the Order, or was he the first? The only one? He shuddered.

"TODAY, LUPIN!" His boss yelled from the front, and startled, Remus dropped the plates which fell to the floor with a resounding crash. Remus' shoulders slumped. Why did everything have to happen to him?

* * *

"Well?" The Dark Lord drawled and Gibbon and Wilkes exchanged looks. "How did it go?"

"Lupin wasn't very receptive, my Lord," Wilkes began carefully. "But I think we might have affected him a little."

"Will he join me?"

Gibbon hesitated before answering. "His answer was a strong 'no,' my Lord. But it is possible he might change his mind. However, I wouldn't count on it - he seems quite...firm in his current allegiance."

"A pity," Voldemort sneered. "But then again, I didn't expect Lupin to be as easy to convince as Pettigrew. But from what I have been able to discern about his little group of friends, Lupin was always the loose card," he mused, half to himself, half to Gibbon and Wilkes. "I always knew Pettigrew would join me. I am pretty certain Potter won't – I will still ask, of course – he is too powerful to ignore. Black still might, though that depends on...a lot of things. Lupin however...he plays it close to the chest. But there have been many losses in his life, lately. One more, and it might just bring him over the edge. Severus, what do you think?" Voldemort turned his head to the shadows, and Severus Snape stepped forward.

"You might be right, my Lord," he pronounced. After a short pause, he added: "He has a girlfriend. I believe they live together as well."

Voldemort smirked. "Well...that's just..._perfect._ What's her name?"

"Buffy," Snape sneered. "Buffy Summers. She's from America. Not much of a brain, even less magical power. But from what I can tell, quite stubborn."

"Buffy..." Voldemort hissed, closing his eyes and tipping his head backwards. "Yes..." The smirk grew even wider. "I think she will be...the perfect little pawn." His eyes snapped open again and he turned his red eyes back at Gibbon and Wilkes. "Keep working on him, but slowly. _Extremely_ slowly. Even if you don't succeed...well, it might prove worthwhile in..._other _ways," he finished, a second plan already forming in his head – one involving Sirius Black.

* * *

_**Published: **__14/07 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Regulus becoming a Death Eater was subtly hinted at in _Road of Innocence_ chapter 13.


	11. Twinge

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**5 November**

"Was it hard to sneak out?" Sirius asked Regulus when his brother joined him by a secluded table in the Three Broomsticks.

Regulus snorted. "Hard to sneak out of Hogwarts? You must be joking – child's play. To be honest, I know the wards of Hogwarts are supposed to be great and all – but they sure aren't preventing anyone from sneaking out. Who's to say they're any better at preventing people from sneaking _in?"_

Sirius frowned at the not-so-subtle jab at the Headmaster and Hogwarts' four founders. The castles wards were ancient, and had never fallen, never faltered. And they were only strengthened by every generation of witches and wizards that were taught within its walls. "You shouldn't be so quick to judge, Reg. Strength is not always obvious," Sirius said, thinking of Buffy – after all, who could believe a whole lot of power hid under her pretty façade?

Regulus shrugged. "Just calling it as I see it." Abruptly changing the subject, he said: "Have you found any solution to my problem yet? I want out, Siri. I just don't know how."

Sirius took a deep breath. He had a feeling Reg wasn't going to like what he was going to say. "I think you should go Dumbledore."

Regulus' eyes widened. "Have you gone _insane?"_ He hissed, putting up a ward to keep people from listening in. "Go to Dumbledore? You must be joking!"

"He can help," Sirius insisted. "He's a very powerful wizard, Reg – the only one Voldemort seems to be afraid of. If anyone can help you get out, it's him."

Regulus was shaking his head. "No," he said, swallowing. "Not a chance. There's no way I'm trusting him." His eyes suddenly widened in fear. "You haven't told him, have you?"

"No!" Sirius exclaimed. "Of course not!"

Regulus relaxed slightly. "Good. You can't tell _anyone_ about this. You never know who's really on your side."

"Isn't that a tad bit paranoid, Reg?" Sirius asked skeptically.

Regulus shook his head. "No. It's a much needed precaution. If anyone found out…" He shuddered. "Promise me you won't tell anyone."

"Alright, alright, I promise," Sirius muttered, frowning.

"Good."

"Are you sure you won't reconsider going to Dumbledore, though?" Sirius begged.

Regulus shook his head. "No. I might be desperate, Siri, but I'm not quite_ that_ desperate. Not yet, at least," he smiled weakly. "Any other suggestions?"

Sirius sighed. "No. That was pretty much it."

Regulus' shoulders slumped. "Oh," he said, biting his lip. "Now what?" He asked sadly, voice trembling slightly.

"We'll figure something out," Sirius promised.

Regulus smiled weakly, not meeting Sirius' eyes. "If you say so."

"You must stay optimistic!" Sirius told him. "We'll fix this, somehow!"

"I'm just afraid I'm running out of time," Regulus mumbled sadly.

* * *

Samantha took a deep breath. "I think we need to talk," she told Peter bravely, trying to ignore the way Peter's shoulders tensed up and the twinge of discomfort in her stomach that protested against this step. She hated doing it. She hated that she had to do it. But she couldn't put it off any longer. "We haven't had a real conversation in ages, Peter."

"I'm busy reading," Peter said resolutely, not looking up from the Daily Prophet.

Samantha bit her lip. "Did you get that job you wanted?" She said after a long silence. "The one you had an interview for?"

"No," Peter said shortly.

Samantha clenched her hands into fists, suddenly wanting nothing more than to rip the newspaper from Peter's hands and hit him over the head with it: Something quite uncharacteristic for her. "Look, Peter, things between us aren't working very well," she finally said tiredly. "You've…you've been distant, and I don't know what to do. Is it me?"

Peter looked up at Samantha at last and sighed. She looked so sad. They had been a couple for so long…but things were different now. "It's not you," he said automatically. "It's me. I've been busy lately, that's all." His mind was screaming at him to _'break up with her! Break up with her, now!'_ But he couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

He lived with Samantha, after all, and if they broke up, he'd have to move in with his mother. And, as much as he hated the job at the store, he didn't relish having to look for another one either. Things were easier this way, and Samantha never asked questions…until now. Suddenly, he hated her a little bit for that. Why couldn't she just let things be?

"With what?" Samantha asked.

"Things," Peter answered, looking away.

Samantha couldn't hold it in anymore. "Look at me!" She demanded, not quite yelling, but not quite calm either. "Stop avoiding things, Peter! We're having problems, and the biggest one at the moment is you!"

Peter stood up, angry as well, now. "ME? I'm not the problem, Sam! Just stop pushing!"

"I'm not _pushing! _I just want to know what bothers you so I can _help _you!" Samantha said, her voice rising a fraction. "I think I've been quite patient! I haven't said anything at all until now, but something's wrong, Peter!"

"Well, maybe you should have kept your mouth shut?" Peter snapped. "I don't need, nor did I ask for your help. Just go back to dealing with your precious store."

Samantha threw him a wounded look. "Is this about the store? Are you jealous of the store, Peter? Is that it? Because I can hire some more people if that's – "

" – The store is not the problem," Peter exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration, despite the fact that, before, it had been. "You are! You're just so…overbearing! You're not my mother!"

"Is that really what you think?" Samantha asked quietly, looking down. "That I'm overbearing?"

"Yes!" Peter said. "You didn't use to be! You used to be so…humble."

Samantha felt her eyes watering up. When had this conversation switched from what was wrong with Peter, to what was wrong with her? "You don't like my personality?" She asked. "You liked me better before? Quiet and unassuming, without any confidence, meek? Is that the kind of girlfriend you want? A _shadow_ without any self-respect?"

"Don't put words in my mouth," Peter seethed. "I didn't mean it like that. But you act like a bitch sometimes."

Samantha jerked back as though she'd been slapped. "A _bitch?"_

Peter shrugged. "There are just some things I don't want to talk about, that's all. If you can't respect that, then I don't think I can put up with you any longer."

Samantha swallowed, trying to blink away the tears threatening to fall. Put up with her? Was she such a burden? Was she really the one in the wrong here? Maybe she was…maybe she really was an overbearing...bitch. "I-I'm sorry," she stuttered out, looking away. "I-I'll try to do b-better."

Peter gave her a cold look. "See that you do," he said, trying to ignore the twinge of guilt at the way he'd made her feel, and then returned to his newspaper.

Sobbing, Samantha escaped the small apartment, wondering when things had gone so wrong…where _she_ had gone so wrong.

* * *

**13 November**

"Be careful," Buffy told Remus as he zipped his backpack – the only thing he'd bring with him – shut.

Remus smiled at her. "I will," he said, hugging her tightly, inhaling her smell for what was the last time in quite some time.

"I wish you wouldn't go," Buffy told him.

"That makes it two of us," Remus joked, trying to keep up a brave face. "But someone has to. And who's better equipped to do it than me?" He sounded slightly bitter.

Buffy frowned as she watched Remus disappear into the bathroom. When he came out again, he looked – and smelled – completely different. The clothes he had put on were wrinkled and washed out, with holes in a couple of places. His blonde hair had been messed up and looked slightly oily. There were dirt under his nails and he smelled as though he hadn't showered in awhile. "Tadaa," he said weakly. "Magic does wonders, doesn't it?"

Buffy looked at him sympathetically, sad that she couldn't hug him – if she did, Remus would smell of her when he arrived at Greyback's camp. He had to look as though his life had been very difficult lately.

"The mission will be over before you know it," she said instead, trying to convince both Remus as well as herself.

"Hopefully." Looking at his wand in his hand, Remus placed it down on the nightstand with a sigh. He had no use for it, where he would be, nor would its presence be welcome. He had to leave it behind.

"I'll miss you," Buffy said, voice breaking slightly.

Remus smiled sadly. His wand wasn't the only thing he had to leave behind. His heart would have to stay as well. "Likewise," he mumbled, praying for her safety while he was gone. And for his own safe return, as well.

* * *

As Remus approached the site Greyback and his pack lived at – a hefty area with caves, a lot of tree coverage, and a large open spot in the middle – he took a deep breath, trying to gather himself.

He'd told himself the only time he'd ever want to see Greyback would be the time he came to kill him. He'd promised both his dying mother, as well as himself, that. Now, however, he was here to, in a way, join him, and Remus couldn't quite stop the feeling of disgust at that.

Finally, he felt confident enough to continue, and as he came closer, several werewolves, women, men and children, all dirty and dressed in rags, came into view. Together, they formed a line around him, surrounding him, and left him feeling very exposed.

After looking around warily, Remus saw Greyback break the circle to come and stand in front of him. The feral werewolf was a large, rangy man with matted hair, whiskers and pointed teeth. His nails were long and yellowish, almost claw-like, and he looked to be stuck somewhere between wolf and human.

Lowering his head in deference, Remus barely held back a shudder.

"What do we have here?" Greyback asked in a scratchy voice, letting one of his long nails rest against Remus' cheek, before the feral wolf grabbed his jaw with a large hand, forcing his head upwards. Remus could feel his breath against his face, and barely avoided puking at the horrible smell.

Greyback cocked his head to the side and leaned even closer, sniffing at Remus' exposed throat, neck and jugular. "I know this smell," he rasped, letting go of Remus' face. "You're one of mine. And yet, you're not. Are you, Remus Lupin?"

"I wasn't before, but I am now," Remus answered, still not meeting Greyback's eyes, the picture of perfect submission.

Greyback grinned, showing all of his elongated teeth. "Are you now?" He asked, sounding faintly amused. "Why?" Suddenly, he sounded quite dangerous. "Why now, when you have never come to me before?"

"I wasn't certain I would be welcome," Remus said. "And…and my father kept me from joining you. Prejudices blinded my sight." It almost killed him, to speak ill of his dead father this way…but if it was the only way he would get accepted into the pack, Remus would.

Greyback let out a terrible hiss. "Yes…Jonathan Lupin."

The werewolves around them began to look restless, some of them mumbling disapprovingly amongst themselves. Greyback smirked. "As you can see, we are not great fans of his." He grinned toothily. "I very much enjoyed ripping his throat out."

Remus wanted nothing more than to attack Greyback in that second, but held back.

"Still, I am not convinced, my wayward cub," Greyback growled. "I don't trust you. You've been among _humans _too long." He spat out the word 'humans' like it was poison.

'_And you shouldn't,'_ Remus thought. "Then I will do everything in my power to earn your trust," he said, and that much was true. "The humans don't want me," Remus said, slightly louder, his voice carrying clearly across all of the camp. "They don't respect me; they don't care about a _beast _like me. I've barely been making a living, and I'm tired of it. I deserve more than that. And," he swallowed, "I've realized I can no longer run from what I am."

"And what's that?" Greyback asked, eyes glinting yellow.

Remus raised his head proudly, looking Greyback straight in the eyes. "A werewolf, like you."

Greyback grinned widely. "Well, then, welcome to the pack, Remus Lupin."

* * *

**14 November**

Human shrieks of pain – and in some cases, joy and relief – turned into howls all across Greyback's turf, as the full moon rose.

Moony's howl was one of the loudest, as he found himself in unfamiliar surroundings, and there was something missing: His pack. And his mate. This was another pack, and he didn't like it.

Suddenly, a large werewolf, with dirty blonde - slightly silvery in places - fur, except for a grey line that ran across its curved spine, appeared out of nowhere, standing in front of Moony and began growling. Moony whimpered, head and tail lowering in submission. _Alpha,_ his mind and senses supplied. _Dangerous. Don't fight._

The werewolf kept growling, in a crouch in front of Moony, who finally sank down on his back, legs in the air, jugular exposed – the sign of ultimate submission.

Finally, the growling stopped, and the Alpha werewolf stepped even closer, and closed its jaw over Moony's throat. Moony didn't react even as the bigger wolf's long teeth scratched sharply against the sensitive flesh.

After several seconds, the larger werewolf let go and stepped back, seemingly satisfied. Waiting until a minute had passed, Moony got to his feet – and was immediately attacked by one of the younger werewolves.

Yipping in pain, as the brown-furred lycan managed to clamp its jaw shut around his right hind leg, Moony flattened his ears against his head. When the younger wolf showed no sign of letting go any time soon, and in fact, only clamped down harder, Moony's fur bristled and his ears stiffened. Tensing up, Moony threw himself forward, ripping his leg out of the younger wolf's mouth, losing a large piece of flesh and fur in the process.

The Alpha-wolf observed the scene with interest, not doing anything to intervene.

Quickly turning, ignoring the pain, Moony snarled at the younger wolf, jaw wide open, and fell into a crouch. The brown wolf snarled back and attacked: Moony was ready, and this time, it was his jaw that clamped down, clasping the younger wolf's neck in a firm hold, shaking him.

The brown-furred lycan whimpered and immediately relaxed, all cockiness disappearing. After a few more seconds, Moony let go, waiting until the younger wolf showed the proper sign of submission, before turning his back to him and halting off to lick his own wounds.

He may be new in this strange, foreign pack, but he would be submissive to no one except the Alpha._ 'And that's only until we are strong enough to kill him,_' a small voice in the back of his mind said. And Moony was perfectly alright with that.

* * *

**15 November**

"Does it hurt?" A light voice asked, and Remus looked up, startled at the small girl that had approached him shyly.

"Excuse me?"

"Your leg," the girl asked, gesturing towards the rather large wound in Remus' calf.

"A little," Remus lied – it hurt a lot, in fact, but he wasn't about to go and show weakness to anyone here, not even a child. "Why do you ask?"

The girl shrugged. "Just curious. Ev'ryone is real curious 'bout you, you know?"

Remus let an eyebrow rise. "Oh?"

The girl nodded. "Uh huh. It's not ev'ry day we get a newcomer to the pack."

"I can imagine," Remus said dryly. "Do you know who it was that attacked me, last night?"

"Ooh, yes, that was Calvin," the girl nodded wisely. "He's a bit of an arse, really. More bark than bite, very low-ranking. I imagine he wanted to show he could get one over the newcomer, but you sure showed him diff'rently." She beamed at Remus.

"What's your name?" Remus asked the girl.

"Oh, I'm Rosalyn," the girl, Rosalyn said. "I'm ten!" She held up both of her hands, fingers outstretched to show. Then she frowned. "I think."

"Well, it's very nice to meet you," Remus said. "However, are you allowed to spend time with me? Most of the pack doesn't seem to trust me yet."

Rosalyn shrugged. "They trust the boss so they must trust you. I think they're just too shy to come an' greet a newcomer." She nodded seriously.

Remus smiled at the innocent naivety of the girl. "Perhaps."

"Well, I gotta go," Rosalyn quipped, grinning brightly and waving. "Bye!" And she ran off, practically flying across the grass, her dirty skirt floating behind her.

* * *

"I don't trust him," Greyback told Voldemort sharply. "Not for a second."

"As you shouldn't," the Dark Lord answered, slightly amused. "Remus Lupin is not on our side, and especially not on yours."

"Do I have your permission to kill him, then?" Greyback growled. "I don't like spies and traitors."

Voldemort smirked. "Who does? But no, Fenrir, you may not kill him yet. If you do…I will be _very _disappointed, do you understand me?"

Greyback snarled sullenly. "Yes," he snapped out. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Like it or not, you _will_ obey." It was a statement, not a question. "And you should see this…_visit _to your little Eden as an opportunity."

"My Lord?"

"Whatever purpose Lupin has for being in your little haven, he will certainly expose the bad seeds in your little family," Voldemort explained coolly. "Anyone he seems to befriend, you can't trust, as simple as that. It will prevent any future traitors. Use him to your advantage, Fenrir – don't let your temper get the best of you."

Greyback looked slightly happier. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Voldemort smiled. "Observe him. Lupin is quite a large part in my own future plans and anything you can tell me about his personality and psyche would be a great help. You will be rewarded, of course… I believe I can easily enough come up with a raid or two you and yours would be welcome to participate in."

Greyback grinned, his elongated teeth glistening with saliva. "Your will is my law, my Lord," he said, barely able to hold back a laugh of glee.

Voldemort smirked. "As it should be, Fenrir, as it should be."

* * *

**20 November**

With a frown on her face, Mandy squeezed the latest sad excuse of a letter from Sirius into a hard little ball in her fist.

'_Hi Mandy,_

_How are you? I'm fine - I'm sorry this letter isn't longer, but things are extremely busy on my end…can't explain further. Hopefully we can meet up sometime in Hogsmeade again._

_Love, Sirius.'_

This was just one of three 'letters' that essentially said the same thing: _I'm fine, don't have time to write, hope we can meet sometime, bye._

His letters used to be long and detailed, filled with life, and the writing very 'Sirius.' But then, about a month ago, they had met up in Hogsmeade… And ever since then, his letters were so impersonal: Sirius was very short – bordering on cold - with her. At first, Mandy had been extremely worried when the first short letter arrived. Now, her worry was slowly being replaced with anger and pain.

She could understand he was busy. She could even understand he couldn't explain why: After all, he was an Auror, and probably heavily involved in the war in some other way. She could understand the need for secrets. But she couldn't accept he used that as an excuse, because it was a lousy one. Before, he'd been able to write about lots of things that had nothing to do with the war or his work.

Did he not want to be together with her anymore? Mandy could understand that – long-distance relationships weren't that easy to maintain, after all. But everything had seemed fine when they met up. And if he wanted to break up, why didn't he just say so? Or did he want her to be the one to break it off, so he wouldn't have to feel guilty?

Barely holding back a sob, she sank down in a blue armchair, throwing the crumpled up parchment into the fire of the Ravenclaw common room. Bending her head forward, her long hair hid her face from the world and covered up the tears slowly filling up her eyes.

Was it really over?

Mandy felt a twinge in her heart. She didn't want it to be.

In her own letters to Sirius, she felt pretty certain her despair at the situation had shone through. At first, she'd tried to be understanding, saying they could write about something else. But his next letter had been the same as the last – like he hadn't even read hers. Then, she'd tried an angry letter. The response…had still been the same as the first and second.

She didn't know what to do anymore.

She'd thought she and Sirius had something special. She'd thought Sirius thought so too. But now, everything was changing, and Mandy didn't know if Sirius was worth the pain and heartache.

A few weeks ago, she would have said 'hell, yes,' with no hesitation. But now… Mandy swallowed heavily. Sirius just didn't seem interested anymore. Was there any use fighting, if it seemed as though there was nothing left to fight for?

'_It has just been a month,'_ she tried to tell herself. _'A month, and three letters. It doesn't mean anything.'_

"I'll give him a couple more weeks," she said out loud, just as the portrait hole opened and Lucan stepped through.

"You'll give what a couple more weeks?" He asked, walking up to her and sinking down in another armchair. He looked thoroughly snogged, and Mandy felt another twinge.

"Are you crying?" Lucan asked, eyes widening as he took in the state of his best friend.

Mandy quickly turned her face away. "No," she snapped. "I'm fine."

Lucan frowned. "Did something happen with Sirius?"

"We're…having some problems," Mandy admitted, still not meeting his eyes. "Nothing that can't be solved, though, don't worry."

Lucan's frown deepened. "Mandy, if he's hurting you…"

"He's not," Mandy snapped, finally turning to meet Lucan's concerned eyes. That, however, just made her feel even worse. "Look, I'm tired. I'm heading to bed. Don't worry about Sirius and I. We have some issues, but we'll get through it."

"If you say so," Lucan muttered, staring after Mandy as she escaped to the girl's dorms.

* * *

**21 November**

"What's that?" Regulus asked, and Sirius' head snapped up and he quickly hid the latest letter from Mandy – she had clearly been in a bad mood when writing it: The letters were thick and clearly written in a haste; there were large black blobs from where she'd dripped ink, and the tone of the letter was one of frustration and anger – at him.

Sirius could understand her anger – he'd be pissed too, but he simply didn't have the time, or energy, to write Mandy a long letter. Trying to help Regulus took up all his time, and mostly, it felt fruitless. He imagined he had a lot of groveling to do to Mandy after this was over.

"Nothing," Sirius said. "How are you?"

Regulus smiled weakly. "About the same as the last time we met. I don't know how much longer I can do this, Sirius."

"Have you thought anymore about my offer?"

Regulus snorted. "Going to Dumbledore, you mean? I might as well sign my own death sentence. At least with the Dark Lord, I know where I stand."

Sirius felt rather affronted on behalf of the Headmaster. "Dumbledore just wants to help people, Reg."

"Hah!" Reg exclaimed. "If you haven't noticed how controlling he can be, you're a fool. Everything he does is 'for the greater good.' It doesn't matter if he loses a few pawns, as long as the end-result is what he calls a 'happily ever after.'"

"I don't believe that," Sirius said, frowning.

Regulus smiled bitterly. "You-Know-Who might be evil and slightly insane on the best of days, but I'd take him over Dumbledore any day. I might be struck down with the killing curse whenever I'm in his presence, but at least I'll know to expect it."

Sirius' frown deepened. "Reg, he could hide you – "

" – Hide me?" Reg laughed, sounding slightly incredulous. "From the Dark Lord? Even Dumbledore wouldn't try that. You-Know-Who has the means to find his followers, wherever we go…" He placed a hand upon the sleeve covering up his dark mark absently. "No, if I go to Dumbledore, he'll try to get me to spy."

"Would that be so bad?" Sirius asked. "You'd still be in Voldemort's service, but you'd be doing a good thing at the same time."

Regulus shook his head. "No. Spy? On You-Know-Who? You're even more naïve than I thought, Siri. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. The Dark Lord knows _everything. _There is no way you could spy on him in any way and _not_ be discovered. And then…then you're as good as dead. And I have no wish to find out howthe Dark Lord deals with traitors." He shuddered. "To be honest, I don't understand how Lupin does it."

Sirius looked taken aback. "What do you mean?" He asked. "And how do you even know about Remus in the first place?" He, along with the rest of Remus' friends had been extremely worried when they heard about the mission he'd been assigned. To now hear Remus had already been exposed was extremely worrying.

"Please," Regulus snorted. "Lupin joins Greyback voluntarily? It's _so _obvious he's been planted there."

Sirius frowned. Was it truly that obvious? If that was the case, then, why hadn't Voldemort done anything about it? Not that he wanted Remus to be killed, but it was suspicious. He shook his head slightly, pushing the suspicion away. Remus was a friend.

"I suppose the Dark Lord is just biding his time, waiting to strike… Because there's no way he doesn't know." Regulus mused out loud. "Or your 'friend' isn't as loyal as you think." He gave Sirius a shrewd look.

"Remus is_ not _on Voldemort's side," Sirius defended Remus hotly, trying to ignore the twinge of doubt in his stomach.

Regulus held up his hands in surrender. "Just exploring all possibilities," he said. "I don't want you to be stabbed in the back, after all." He smiled slightly. "Not after all the trouble we went through to re-establish our connection."

Sirius relaxed a fraction. Regulus was right, he realized. He was wrong about Remus, he told himself, firmly pushing down the suspicion Sirius had been having about his friend for awhile now. But that didn't mean Regulus was wrong about wanting to look out for him.

After all, that's what brothers did.

He smiled at Regulus, who gave him a raised eyebrow in response. "What?"

"Nothing," Sirius said. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm sort of glad things have gone so wrong for you."

"Oh?" Regulus' eyes narrowed.

"Yeah…because that means things are going right for us, for once," Sirius continued. "I'm glad we're brothers again, Reg. _Really_ brothers, not just in name only."

Regulus smiled, and if his smile was a bit too bright to be genuine, Sirius didn't notice.

* * *

**24 November**

"Are you ready, ickle little baby Peter?" Bellatrix asked, looking up from the dead corpse of a woman she was mutilating with a knife. "It's your turn." She looked towards the frightened man cowering in a corner, trying to hide his son from view. Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange were guarding the two with bored looks.

Peter gulped, feeling a sharp twinge in his heart. This was it. It was his turn to show that he was able to do more than just _watch_. It was his second raid with the Death Eaters – and boy, had he been glad to get out of the apartment. Samantha had been like a zombie since their row, and while a part of Peter was happy she was no longer nagging, another part felt extremely uncomfortable with the situation. He took a deep breath and raised his wand, pointing it at the muggle. "W-what do you want me to do?"

Bellatrix smiled sweetly. "Oh, be creative," she suggested, and leaned down to place a kiss at the dead woman's lips, which had been sewn shut with a nifty little curse. "It's so fun."

Swallowing heavily, Peter used an almost silent _'mobilicorpus' _to drag out the whimpering muggle to the middle of the floor. "P-please," the man begged. "You have already taken my wife. Must you take me as well?"

"Daddy!" The boy cried, and Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

"Oh, _please,"_ she begged. "Someone, shut the maggot up!"

Her husband, Rodolphus, inclined his head, and with a silent wave of his wand, the boy's mouth was sewn shut like his dead mother's. Muffled screams of pain still escaped him, and large tear droplets fell from his eyes.

Peter refused to look, and instead focused on the father, who was pleading at the three marked Death Eaters to let his son go. Torturing children was going a bit too far for him at this point, though of course, he said nothing. And there was a small part of him that enjoyed seeing the innocence ripped away.

"Today, Pettigrew," Rabastan snapped, and Peter jumped.

"And remember, be creative," Bellatrix prompted happily as she twisted the dead woman's blonde hair into neat braids, tying the ends with conjured up bows in black silk.

Inspired, Peter, with narrowed eyes, sent off a curse that ripped the man's hair out by its roots, leaving his skull bald and bleeding. At first, he felt disgust at his own actions, but then adrenaline kicked in and he felt euphoric. He had done that. _Him, _no one else. That man was screaming – because of _him._ He was begging – because of _him._

He'd never felt such power over a person before, and now, Peter glowed of it. He loved it. He wanted more.

Bellatrix clapped her hands, like a little child. "Oooh, how delightful," she almost purred. "More, please!"

Wetting his lips, Peter raised his wand again. _"CRUCIO!"_ The man's screams increased ten-fold as he was hit with Peter's first attempt at an Unforgivable curse.

Bellatrix pouted slightly. "Well, that wasn't very creative…" She quickly brightened up again, however: "But I suppose nothing can beat an old classic. Don't you agree, darling?" She turned to Rodolphus, beaming.

The dark haired man smirked. "Indeed, you can't, my love." He bowed in her direction.

"Kill him," Rabastan interrupted, turning to Pettigrew. "We don't have all night."

"Ooh, I can see the green light already," Bellatrix breathed, eyes closed, swaying slightly on the spot. "So pretty!"

Hand shaking slightly, Peter raised his wand for a third, and final time. _"AVADA KEDAVRA!" _The green light hit the screaming muggle, ending his life, and Peter gasped and stumbled: The power-surge he'd felt the moment the killing curse left his wand was indescribable. He wanted more. He wanted to feel that again, soon.

Bellatrix cackled with laughter. "You liked that didn't you?" She cooed. "I can tell. It's in the eyes." She held up two extended fingers to her own pair, looking quite mad.

"DAD!" The boy screamed, blood flowing from his lips as he'd physically broken through the magical bindings on his mouth, ripping his mouth apart in the process.

"Rabastan, won't you take care of that, for me?" Bellatrix fluttered her eyes at her brother-in-law. "It might put you in a better mood. You are just so sour tonight, darling."

Rabastan let an eyebrow rise and lifted his wand, pointing it at the boy, and, without looking, sent off a spell, that slit his throat. With a final gurgle, the boy fell down in a heap against the wall, dead. "Silent enough for you, dear Bella?" He asked.

Bellatrix squealed, beaming as she stood up, walking over to wrap her arms around Rabastan and, standing on her tip-toes, she rubbed her cheek against his lovingly. "A work of art, as always." Then, she danced over to her husband and gave him a smacking kiss on the mouth. "I feel like…celebrating." She put a finger in her mouth, sucking it seductively, eyes smoky, and Rodolphus gave her an aroused look.

"You did very well, Peter," Bellatrix said without taking her eyes off Rodolphus: In fact, she pressed herself even closer. "I will make sure to tell the Dark Lord of your progress. You can go now. Rabastan will follow you, won't he?"

Rabastan bowed to his brother and sister-in-law, and then exited the building, Peter following. Once outside, it was Peter's turn to cast the Dark Mark.

"_Morsmordre__!"_

The sky was lit up in green as the skull and snake decorated the dark heavens.

"It's time to go," Rabastan said gruffly.

Peter looked towards the house in confusion. "What about Bellatrix and Rodolphus?"

Rabastan's lips twitched. "They are…celebrating," he said, and right after that, a loud moan of pleasure came from inside and Peter blushed heavily.

"Oh."

"They will make their own escape later, have no fear," Rabastan added, and apparated away. After another second or so listening to the sounds coming from the house, Peter prepared himself to do the same, shivering, still on a high from the almost unreality of the experience.

Peter had had no idea this was what it would be like to be a Death Eater. It was beyond anything he could imagine. It was…so much more.

And he felt, truly, for the first time, like he fit in.

* * *

_**Published: **__28/07 -10  
____**Edited: **__28/07 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- The power-surge after Peter casts the killing curse is the addictive properties of the Avada Kedavra, part of the reason why I'd like to think it is labelled an Unforgivable, other than the obvious.


	12. Worth

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**1 December**

"Hey, birthday girl, how has your day been?" Lucan asked, throwing a present in Mandy's lap and sitting down in the sofa beside her. Mandy just stared at the gift. "It's from Belinda and me both," he added, when, after a few more seconds, he still hadn't gotten a reaction.

"Thanks," Mandy said quietly. "You didn't have to."

"It's your birthday, of course I had to," Lucan rolled his eyes. "So, what else have you gotten? What did your friends send you?"

Wordlessly, Mandy handed over a bunch of cards and unwrapped presents from the table beside her. Lucan chortled out loud at some of the gifts. Slowly, his laughter faded, though, as he again and again looked through the pile, failing to find a gift from a certain marauder. He cleared his throat, feeling extremely uncomfortable. "So…eh…where's the present from Sirius?"

Mandy burst into tears and Lucan's eyes widened. "I know it's just a stupid gift!" Mandy exclaimed noisily through her tears. "It doesn't really mean anything! But all my other friends gave me something, and he's supposed to be my boyfriend, but he didn't even send me a stupid _card!_"

Lucan patted her on her back awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. He hadn't been a fan of Sirius Black's when he first heard he was trying to win Mandy's heart. But he'd come around, and Lucan had truly thought Sirius was….well, _serious,_ about his relationship with Mandy, that it would work out. But now… "Maybe he…forgot?"

Mandy's sobs became even louder. "He's my boyfriend, he's not supposed to _forget _about my birthday! Especially not as all of his friends remembered." Sniffing, she leaned in towards Lucan, resting her head against his shoulder. "And this is just the latest thing he's done. Or rather, not done, and I'm not sure how much more I can handle, Luke."

Lucan felt slightly guilty. He'd been so absorbed in his relationship with Belinda, that he hadn't really noticed Mandy was sad. Or, rather, he'd noticed, but when Mandy said she was fine, he'd let it be. Now, he could clearly see she wasn't fine – at all.

"His so-called letters are laughably short, and they might as well be written to a stranger he doesn't care about," Mandy continued. "And I'm not even sure he's reading mine." Conjuring up a napkin, Mandy blew her nose. "I don't think we're working out anymore," she whispered helplessly. "Should I break up with him? I want to, and yet I don't want to. What if he's just going through a bad patch, or something? I should be understanding, rather than demanding."

"Bad patch or not, he has no business treating you like this," Lucan said firmly. "This is the second time I've seen you crying over him, Mandy. Is he worth it? Honestly?"

"I don't know," Mandy mumbled brokenly. "I don't know anymore, Luke."

"Whatever problems he has, if he has any, it doesn't excuse him," Lucan said. "He's hurting you, M."

"So you think I should break up with him?" Mandy bit her lip and Lucan sighed.

"Only you can make that decision, but…you're a mess, Mandy," Lucan stated. "I think taking a break would be better. If Sirius is only going through a 'bad patch', then you can work it out later. But in the meantime, you need to think about _you._"

Mandy swallowed heavily. "You're right," she said, reaching for a quill and parchment. "You're right." As she began writing another letter to Sirius – containing words she never thought she'd say – '_it's over'_ – it felt as though she'd never be happy again. But Lucan was right. She was tired of being strong, of pretending like nothing was the matter. Until Sirius got his head on straight, she had no choice but to end things.

Even if it broke her heart.

* * *

"Hi again!" A bright voice said happily and Remus looked up, coming face to face with Rosalyn, the ten year old werewolf who'd asked about his wellbeing after his first transformation with the pack.

"Hi yourself," Remus said, amused. It both made him sad and glad the only one who had approached him voluntarily during his stay here was this little girl. Glad, because she was sweet and refreshing. And sad because he was afraid Fenrir would do something to her.

None in the pack seemed all that enthusiastic about him being here. Most of the werewolves he'd approached were bordering on rude – either turning away, or practically ignoring his attempts at conversation. It didn't exactly make his mission easy to complete.

The few werewolves he had managed to speak to with some success still didn't say all that much – it was clear they were frightened. Of Fenrir, Remus guessed, and of what would happen if the Alpha werewolf found out Remus' true purpose here – and what he'd do to those who'd been friendly with him.

"Fenrir says no one should be talking to you," Rosalyn said.

"Well, then you probably shouldn't," Remus advised, not wanting anything to happen to her.

Rosalyn shrugged. "Fenrir says a lot. And I like you."

"You barely know me," Remus stated dryly.

"Well, I think you're pretty."

Remus snorted. "Thanks, I guess."

"And int'resting," Rosalyn added decisively "Nothing much ever happens 'round here. What's it like?"

"What's what like?" Remus asked. Rosalyn opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by a dark-haired boy her age coming up to clamp a hand around her mouth.

"Stop asking questions, Rosie!" The boy hissed. "We shouldn't be talking to him." He gave Remus a glare. Rosalyn licked the palm of the boy's hand, and he pulled it away with a shout.

"Oh, yuck, Rose!" He exclaimed, wiping his hand on his ragged looking pants.

Rosalyn stuck out her tongue at the boy, before turning back to Remus. "That's Jasper. He's my twin. And an arse."

Remus lips twitched with amusement. "Twins, huh? You look nothing alike."

"We're not _that_ kind of twins, silly," Rosalyn giggled. "We're…whatcha call it again, Jazz?"

"Fraternal," the boy, Jasper muttered. "Come on, we shouldn't be here."

"Well, I want to be here," Rosalyn said, sticking out her tongue again. "I want to hear stories!"

Despite himself, Jasper began to look slightly curious. "Stories? About what?"

"The world outside the forest, of course!" Rosalyn said and Remus winced slightly.

"Look, I don't think that's such a good idea…" He began, but Jasper interrupted.

"Really?" He looked at him, interested. "Well, go on then. What's it like?"

Remus sighed, not sure this was a good idea, but as he looked into the children's large, imploring eyes, he couldn't say no. The kids here were so innocent – naïve – acting a lot younger than they actually were, barely knowing anything about the 'real' world – this place in the forest, with the pack, was all they knew. Rosalyn and Jasper might be ten years old, but they acted more like five, six tops. "There are a lot of people," he began slowly. "And it's a large place."

"Bigger than the forest put together?" Rosalyn breathed out, and Remus nodded.

"Much, much bigger," he said.

"With that big of a place and that many people, how can the leaders make sure there isn't any fighting?" Jasper asked.

"Well, it's not easy," Remus said, trying to find the right words so the two children understood. "There are fights, surely, because there are a lot of good and bad people in the world, and everyone wants something different. It's difficult there, sometimes, but there are so many amazing things as well."

"Like what?" Rosalyn asked. "Are there books? One of the other wolves brought one with her when she first arrived. There were so many pictures!" Then she grew sad. "But Fenrir got angry when he saw and took it away."

Remus felt a pang in his heart. "Many, many books," he said.

"Can you read?" Jasper asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Why, yes, I can," Remus said.

"Teach us, please!" Rosalyn begged. "Pretty please!"

After hesitating a second, Remus agreed. "Alright." He used his finger to draw a large letter in the dirt. "This is 'A' and it's the first letter of the Alphabet…"

"Yay!" Both Jasper and Rosalyn exclaimed, having completely forgotten they weren't supposed to spend time with Remus. From a distance, Greyback watched, not at all pleased.

* * *

"How was your day?" Samantha asked Peter carefully, not meeting his eyes, as he entered the apartment. Ever since their fight, they'd barely spoken, and Samantha was terrified of doing or saying something to upset Peter further.

"Fine," Peter said coldly, sitting down by the kitchen table. "Is there any food ready?"

Without a word, Samantha heated up the remains from her own dinner and served Peter, trying to convince herself he was not treating her like a maid; everything was fine.

"What are you staring at?" Peter asked, enjoying the power he felt as Samantha flinched and looked away.

"Nothing," she said quietly, wondering what had made Peter change so. Was it the war? She supposed the pressure was getting to him, but none of their other friends were reacting like this. She felt like a stranger in her own home, like she couldn't do anything right… A part of her wanted to desperately scream and hit something, preferably Peter, while another part of her told her to shut up and keep her head down. "What has happened to us?" She asked Peter brokenly, and Peter slammed his fork down.

"By Merlin, woman, shut up!" He yelled and Samantha jerked back as if slapped, tears burning in her eyes. "Maybe I've just grown tired of you," he said callously. "You're pretty boring, you know. I understand now why you never had any friends." Peter firmly pushed away the guilt biting at his heart. He liked Samantha, honestly, he did – or at least, he tried to. But she was making things so _difficult!_ Why couldn't she just be obedient and docile, or something?

He supposed it was her muggle blood. Peter thought Samantha had been strong enough to rise above that, though, as it wasn't her fault she was only half witch. But now he saw he'd given her far too much credit.

The Dark Lord and the Death Eaters were right: Muggles were scum that destroyed everything. He just hadn't seen it until now. Glancing at Samantha from the corner of his eye, he – not for the first time – wished he could just break up with her.

But it wasn't that easy. She was like an annoying fungus that he just couldn't get rid of. He knew he had to, sooner or later, because Samantha was his last tie to the helpless little idiotic lapdog that he used to be, before he found an out in the Dark Lord. But to be honest, he was a little afraid to cut that tie completely. What if he needed her in the future, as a way out?

He knew he shouldn't be thinking that: As a Death Eater, there was no place for doubt. But he supposed he needed a little more time, before he found strength enough to cut lose completely. He was almost there – he just needed a little more power. Absently, he wondered when the next raid would be.

Samantha felt her heart sink down to the bottom of her stomach as she heard Peter's response. She knew it. Things had been so good for awhile: She'd had friends, an amazing boyfriend, plans of a bright future… But now, she had proof, in the form of words said by the person who knew her best – she was _dull._ Peter was right. She should be grateful she still had him, and her other friends. Inwardly, she wondered how much longer they'd be able to put up with her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and she was: Sorry for the way things had turned out, sorry for not being a better person, sorry for not being more interesting. But she wasn't sure how she could improve herself enough to make Peter happy. But she knew she had to.

After all, he was worth it.

Wasn't he?

She firmly stashed away the doubt that said that _she _was the one that deserved better.

* * *

Sirius stared into his glass of firewhiskey morosely. He couldn't believe Mandy had broken up with him!

Actually, he had to admit, that wasn't true – he understood all too well. He'd been acting like a complete and utter bastard to her. He supposed forgetting her birthday was just the icing on the cake. And the worst thing was, he couldn't manage to bring himself to apologize and make things right again. To make up with her, only to fall right back into the pattern of neglecting everything and everyone else other than his brother wasn't fair.

She was worth more than that.

Between his work at the Auror Academy, the Order, and trying to help Regulus, he was being run ragged: He just didn't have time, or energy, to dedicate to Mandy as well.

Throwing his head back, he swallowed what remained of the firewhisky in what gulp, enjoying the way it made his throat burn and eyes water. The alcohol was the only thing that took an edge off the despair and helplessness he was feeling. He wished he could somehow duplicate himself, so he could give all the important parts in his life the attention they deserved.

The floo flared to life, and Regulus stuck his head through. "Sirius? Sirius, are you there?"

Sirius turned his head to face Regulus. "Yeah. Whose floo are you using?"

"Slughorn's," Regulus answered. "He doesn't know. I just needed to talk to someone."

Sirius smiled bitterly, pouring himself another glass. "Talk away, Reg. It's not like I have anything else to do."

Regulus frowned, for the first time noticing how worn and tired his brother look, and he felt guilty for deceiving him. But he had no choice – the Dark Lord had given him a mission, and he would complete it.

Even if his heart protested against taking advantage over his brother's kindness.

'_I don't owe him a thing,'_ Reg tried to tell himself._ 'The Dark Lord is counting on me… It's worth it.'_

But as Regulus began to speak of his day's 'troubles' – all made up, of course – he knew he was lying to himself.

* * *

**13 December**

"A b…l…a…c...k – black – b…e…r…r…y – berry. A black berry – a blackberry!" Jasper spelled out the words Remus had written with a stick in the dirt, looking at him for approval once he was done.

Remus was grinning widely. "Excellent, Jasper," he praised. "You're a very quick learner.

Jasper shrugged, trying to look modest, but failing miserably – there was no mistaking how his chest swelled up with pride, or the way he blushed when Rosalyn clapped her hands. "My turn!" She squealed.

"Alright," Remus said, erasing the previous words in the sand and writing new ones.

"M…u…m – mum – i…s – is – p…r…e…t…t…y – pretty. Mum is pretty!" Rosalyn said, brightening up as Remus grinned and nodded. The young werewolf's smile faded soon, though.

"I don't know what my mum looks like," she said. "I can't r'member. Not Jasper either."

"Weren't you born in the pack?" Remus asked with a frown.

Jasper was shaking his head. "No. Fenrir saved us."

"Uh huh," Rosalyn said. "When we were bitten, our fam'ly didn't want us anymore. Fenrir took us in."

"And who bit you, exactly?" Remus was beginning to have a terrible suspicion that _Greyback _had been the one to bite the twins and then passed himself off as their saviour.

"Don't know," Jasper answered. "Don't care. We are who we are. Can't change that, right?"

"Right…" Remus muttered, his frown deepening. "But don't you want to find out who your real parents are? Where you come from? Experience everything else out there?"

"They abandoned us," Jasper spat. "I don't want to know people like that. As for seeing the rest of the world…I suppose it would be cool, but this is all we know." He gestured at their surroundings. "We're safe here. With family. Your stories are nice, but I have no need to find out if they're true or not."

"Of course they're true," Remus felt slightly offended.

"So you say," Jasper grumbled slightly. "Fenrir has told us we shouldn't trust anything you say."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't listen to everything Fenrir says either," Remus countered calmly. "Haven't you ever wondered why he won't let you have toys or books of your own? Why he won't teach you to read or write?"

Jasper and Rosalyn frowned. "Fenrir's word is law," Jasper finally said, looking uncomfortable: To Remus, it was clear that they had wondered, but hadn't dared to ask. "It's not our place to question things."

"Does that stop you from wondering, though?" Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.

Jasper pursed his lips together. "Let's go, Rosie," he said, turning around to walk away. "We shouldn't be here."

"But – "

" – Now, Rosie," Jasper said, grabbing his sister by the hand. "He's trouble."

Remus could only watch sadly as the twins – his only company – walked away, but at the same time, he realized that it was probably for the best if he wanted Jasper and Rosalyn to be safe.

* * *

**15 December**

Remus groaned as the sun rose and he became himself again after a night as a fully transformed werewolf. Blinking slightly, he opened his eyes and looked across the meadow to try and find the twins: He found them near Greyback, playing rock, paper, scissors (Remus had taught them that game) and looking a bit worn, but no worse for wear – certainly no worse than what Remus was feeling.

Suddenly, a motion a bit to his left made him turn around. One of the younger males had stood up – Remus recognized him as the one Rosalyn had pointed out as Calvin, the werewolf who'd attacked him during the last full moon. Now, Calvin was making his way towards the other side of the camp.

Greyback opened one eye as he approached, giving Calvin a long look, but did nothing to stop him, even as the rest of the pack shifted restlessly. What was he up to?

After having passed Greyback, Calvin abruptly took off in a sprint and launched himself towards the group Rosalyn and Jasper were sitting in, scattering them as they screamed in fear. Remus found himself standing up, but was immediately restrained by two other wolves. As Calvin reached Rosalyn, he held her up by the throat for all of the pack to see, completely ignoring her choked sobs to be let down.

"ROSIE!" Jasper screamed, beginning to run towards his sister – but was held back by Greyback, as the Alpha grabbed him by the waist.

"It's unfortunate," Greyback said out loud, earning himself the attention of the pack. "But lessons must be taught." He looked at Remus meaningfully, then at Jasper who was staring at his sister, half-uncomprehending. Remus felt his stomach churn, having an incredibly bad feeling… "Sacrifices must be made. That is the way of the pack." Greyback nodded at Calvin, who smiled maliciously at a terrified Rosalyn – and snapped her neck.

"NOOOO!" Jasper screamed, finally tearing himself out of Greyback's arms and running towards his dead sister, her eyes wide open and unseeing. Remus stood stock-still, completely shocked at what had just happened.

And realizing the part he had played in it.

It was his fault.

* * *

Later that evening, after burying Rosalyn, and most of the pack had gone to sleep, Remus was woken up by approaching steps. Looking up blearily, he came face to face with a pale-faced Jasper, cheeks red-rimmed with tears.

"Jasper?" Remus mumbled groggily, wondering if the boy was here to chew him out, or even try to kill him: After all, Jasper too must have realized that Remus was partly to blame for his sister's death.

"I'm so confused," Jasper began, not looking at Remus. He sounded broken. "I thought I knew everything… Or everything that mattered, anyway."

"I'm not quite sure where you're going with this," Remus said quietly, sitting up. To his surprise, Jasper sank down onto the forest floor and leaned back against Remus' chest, curling up in a little ball.

The boy laughed brokenly. "Neither am I, to be honest. I just…I guess…Rosie liked you."

"And it got her killed," Remus said sadly, but Jasper shook his head.

"No. Well, yes. Partly. But…you were right. About everything. I thought this was home, that I had family here, but without Rosie, I have nothing. And it's Fenrir's fault." His eyes blazed in the dark, and Remus felt a pang in his chest as he realized yet another life had been destroyed by that bastard. "He lied to me, to Rosie… He betrayed us. I _hate_ him."

Remus, not quite knowing what to say, only hugged the boy closer: Jasper had lost his innocence, his sister and his father figure (because as much as he hated it, that was what Fenrir had been to the twins) in one day. Everything he'd known had been turned upside down.

"I don't know what to do anymore." Jasper's voice broke.

Remus' heart was thumping wildly in his chest. He had a feeling his mission here was futile – maybe some of the werewolves would be more open to his point of view now, when Fenrir had had Rosalyn killed – but they would also be twice as frightened to cross him.

But if he could help just one person, his mission here would be worth it.

"I'll help you leave," he found himself saying. "If you want me to."

Jasper finally looked up to meet Remus questioning look, and his eyes were filled with burning determination. "More than anything."

* * *

**17 December**

As Mandy stepped out of the Hogwarts Express and onto Platform nine three-quarters, she couldn't help but look around for Sirius. But he wasn't there. Her other friends, however, were, and they were waving at her enthusiastically: Well, Peter wasn't – he looked slightly sullen, and Samantha wasn't waving either – in fact, she was extremely pale and looked ill.

"Mandy!" Buffy squealed, hugging her, and the brown-haired Ravenclaw forced up a smile as she returned the embrace.

"Hi, Buffy. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Buffy said airily. "And you?"

Mandy shrugged. "Could be better, could be worse." She smiled weakly. "Hi, Lily, James. Peter, Samantha."

"I have a question," James said, frowning at the brown-haired girl. "Why on Earth did you tell Lily I was taking advantage of my injured state?"

"Thank you, by the way, for telling me that," Lily told Mandy as the girl's lips twitched and Buffy snorted. She glared at James.

"What, woman?" James yelped. "Haven't you forgiven me _yet?_ You'd think after having to spend three weeks on the couch, you'd be satisfied, but oh, no."

Lily sniffed. "Like you didn't deserve it. I was worried as Hell about you when you didn't seem to get better, and you were _faking!"_

James pouted. "Not all the time..." He muttered sulkily, earning himself another glare from the redhead.

Mandy felt her spirits slightly lifted in the company of her friends – God, she'd missed them. As if reading her mind, Buffy asked: "So how did you stand being at Hogwarts without us?"

"Not quite sure," Mandy admitted. "Well, I had Lucan. And Belinda. She's growing on me."

"Ah, his Slytherin girlfriend, right?" James said, not quite able to hide his distaste.

"Not all Slytherins are bad," Lily told him, poking his chest, and James rolled his eyes.

"I know, I know. Habit."

"Well, get rid of it," Lily demanded and James rolled his eyes again.

Mandy grinned slightly at the couple, before turning to Samantha. "Hey, Sam, how's the store doing?"

"Um..." It didn't escape Mandy's notice how the blonde girl quickly glanced up at Peter before answering, as if looking for his approval, and the Ravenclaw frowned, before dismissing it as paranoia: Just because she and Sirius had problems, didn't mean everyone else did too. "Fine. It's...going very well, actually." She fell silent.

As the six friends left the platform, Mandy couldn't help but ask: "Umm...so...has Sirius mentioned me? At all?"

James exchanged a quick look with Lily. "Well..." he hesitated. "I haven't seen him that much, to be honest, other than at work. But he did say you'd broken up."

"And?" Mandy asked hopefully.

"And...nothing," James finished. "Sorry."

Mandy's shoulders slumped, trying to keep her tears at bay. "Oh. Well, okay. That's fine. "So...where's Remus?" Mandy asked, changing the subject when she saw Lily was about to say something. _'Probably a platitude of some kind,'_ she thought glumly.

"Oh, he couldn't be here. He's away, traveling. Business trip," Buffy lied, hating she had to, but Mandy wasn't in the Order. To be honest she was sort of grateful for it – at least one of her friends was kept away from danger.

"How long will he be gone? And what kind of business?" Mandy asked curiously.

"Umm...I'm not sure, and the secret kind," Buffy answered. "So we'll have the cottage all to ourselves!" She added brightly.

Mandy smiled back.

* * *

After Buffy and Mandy had parted with their friends following a quick dinner at _the Leaky Cauldron,_ it was nightfall, and they apparated to the gravel road outside Remus' and Buffy's cottage, both looking forward to jumping into bed: Unpacking could wait until tomorrow.

The two girls were chatting quietly as they walked the short path towards the cottage, the only sound coming from leaves rustling in the wind. Buffy was just about to take out the key to the house when she tensed up, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. "My spider-sense started tingling," she muttered. Mandy gave her a confused look.

"Your what?"

A shadow suddenly jumped down in front of them from the roof, and Mandy screamed as it tackled her down onto the grass. Fangs glistened in the moonlight and Mandy did her best to push off the vampire with one hand, while desperately scrambling for her wand with the other. "Buffy!" Mandy screamed, wondering what the Hell her friend, the supposed Vampire Slayer, was doing.

"Sort of busy," Buffy called back, and as Mandy turned her head to the right, she saw Buffy was fighting with three other vampires. If Mandy hadn't been so terrified, maybe she would have been able to appreciate it more, because Buffy fighting was truly a sight to behold.

"Ah!" Mandy screamed in pain as the vampire finally succeeded in its goal and sharp fangs pierced her throat. "Fuck, that hurts!"

Buffy had managed to stake two vampires (it was quite handy, having a wand made of wood), but the third still remained. He would have to wait, though. Flipping through the air, Buffy landed beside the vampire which was doing its best to suck Mandy dry, and she wasted no time staking him through the back.

Mandy coughed as she accidentally inhaled some of the dust the vampire had become. "Behind you," she croaked out, pointing, and Buffy ducked, just as the third vampire swung its fist at the place she'd had her head less than a second ago.

Kicking out a leg backwards, Buffy managed to knock the vampire to the ground, but he quickly got up again, snarling. "This is for our Lord," he hissed, before throwing himself towards Buffy who simply raised an eyebrow, raised a fist and sent him flying, straight at a sharp tree branch.

"And that's for your bad fashion sense," she said sweetly as he combusted. Shaking her head, she turned back to Mandy. "I suppose some things never change, no matter the dimension. Vampires and bad taste seem to be one of them." She stretched out a hand to help Mandy up.

"Where did they come from?" She gasped once she got to her feet, a palm pressed against the bleeding fang marks on her neck.

"My guess? Their 'Lord' sent them. The only one I know who calls himself 'Lord' around these parts is Voldemort," Buffy answered, knowing she had to contact Dumbledore about this as soon as possible. It seemed as though Voldemort was wasting no time in using his newly recruited vampire force. The question was, why had he sent them after her, of all people? Was it possible he knew she was the Slayer?

Mandy was wondering the same thing: "Why would You-Know-Who send vampires after us? As far as I know, we're not that important. Unless he has found out you're the Slayer?"

Buffy pursed her lips together. "It's a possibility, but I just don't know. Who could have told him? The only people who know are my closest friends and Dumbledore." _'And the Order,'_ she added silently to herself, wondering if they had a traitor in their midst. It wasn't entirely unlikely, especially as Voldemort had already been one step ahead of them once, by murdering the only person the Order had as a lead in regards to the mysterious book.

"Anyway, let's not think about that now." Buffy pulled out her key and unlocked the door. "We should get that bite wound of yours disinfected, and I don't know about you, but after that, I'd like to have a non-fat yogurt, and then go to sleep."

Mandy gave her a strange look. "Non-fat yogurt?"

Buffy blushed. "It's a Slayer thing. Sometimes, slaying makes me really hungry and ho- eh...never mind," she quickly added, deciding some things were private. But she wished more than ever that Remus was here so she could get an outlet for that _othe_r craving she got.

"No, tell me! What were you going to say?" Mandy asked teasingly.

"Uh-uh. You're not getting another word out of me, missus," Buffy said, pretending to zip her lips shut, her eyes glittering. It was amazing how some normal slaying could make her feel so much better. She felt relaxed, calm and clear-headed, and for the first time in months, she felt like herself, with none of the anger at everything with a Dark Mark buzzing in the back of her head, clouding her thoughts. She never thought she would say this, but she actually hoped for some more vampires to jump out of the bushes and try to kill them, just so she could feel that familiar rush again: It was like coming home.

Mandy's eyes twinkled. "That's alright. I can guess."

Buffy's blush deepened.

* * *

_**Published: **__11/08 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Jasper and Rosalyn are shamelessly named after Jasper and Rosalie in Twilight, vampires who pose as twins amongst humans.  
- Buffy's tingling spider-sense that she experiences when something's wrong is first mentioned in BTVS 1x8: "I, Robot... You, Jane" and is a pop-culture reference to Spiderman's intuition.  
- Buffy's conversation with Mandy, about non-fat yoghurt and her being "hungry and ho..." is inspired by BTVS 3x3: "Faith, Hope & Trick" where we find out that slaying always makes Faith hungry and horny, and Buffy in response mentions a craving for non-fat yogurt. In this chapter she almost mentions the horniness as well, even if she manages to catch herself before slipping out the actual word. ;)

* * *

**A/N: **Much thanks goes to the person or people who nominated Road of Innocence to Twisting the Hellmouth's Crossing Over Awards 2010 in four cathegories (best HP crossover, best portrayal of Buffy, best pairing, best OC). I am so grateful and honoured!


	13. Dark

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**18 December**

Regulus stared out his window at Grimmauld Place, absently checking on Kreacher, who was cleaning out his cupboard, every now and then. He was thinking about his mission for the Dark Lord: Convert Sirius. The further he got, the less he wanted to. His brother was a pale ghost of himself, and inwardly, Regulus doubted it was worth it.

At first, Regulus had been looking forward to the mission, even though it made him feel slightly guilty. He'd seen it as a chance for him and Sirius to be brothers again, to regain what they had had as kids. But they weren't kids anymore. And it was becoming more and more obvious the further Regulus got in his scheme that Sirius wasn't suited for the dark.

He clenched his fists. Sirius had always been different, always wanting to make his own way. He'd always been stronger than Reg. But now, the spark that made Sirius so uniquely _Sirius_ was almost gone, suffocating under the fake pressure Regulus was heaping onto him. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up the pretence. Especially as Sirius was losing everything for _him,_ even though he didn't need help. He'd lost his humour, his girlfriend, his pastime with his friends...himself.

As Regulus dragged Sirius down in his made-up problems with the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who, he realised it was killing his brother on the inside. And yet, he kept on going. For him. Because Regulus had asked it of him.

It was no question who the 'worst' Black brother was anymore. It was him, pure and simple. Suddenly, Regulus felt a large heap of self-hate. From down below, the door-knocker was heard. "Kreacher, will you get that?" Regulus asked the house-elf, still half lost in his own thoughts.

Kreacher bowed. "As Master Regulus wishes." With a pop, he was gone, and, within a few seconds, voices could be heard from downstairs.

"Is Regulus home?"

Regulus froze as he heard his brother's voice. It couldn't be.

"The second son of Black returns," Kreacher muttered. "Worthless scum, hurting the Mistress..."

It could. Regulus stood up and raced down the stairs, hardly believing Sirius was here. _Here,_ at Grimmauld place, the house he loathed and had sworn never to return to. _Ever. _Despite the fact he might run into his parents. Why was he here? Was it just for him? Regulus self-hate increased twenty-fold. He reached the outer-door, and sure enough, on the stairs stood Sirius, hands in his pockets.

Kreacher was still muttering: "Useless fiend. Blood-traitor. Should be hanged..."

"That's enough, Kreacher," Regulus told the elf, and Kreacher immediately shut up. "Please, go make us some tea." He threw the bowing servant a small smile, and Kreacher immediately disappeared. "Sirius. What are you doing here?"

"Are mother and father home?"

"No," Regulus said slowly. "They're having dinner at the Malfoy's, tonight."

Sirius relaxed. "Oh, good. It's you I wanted to see, anyway."

"I figured." For a few seconds, the two brothers stood completely still, just watching each other. Sirius was even paler than the last time Regulus had seen him, with dark circles under his eyes. "Come on in," Regulus said, gesturing inside.

Once they were both seated in the kitchen, with tea and warm scones, courtesy of Kreacher, Sirius opened his mouth first. "What are you doing for Christmas this year?" He blurted out.

Regulus looked up, surprised, figuring the reason he came was to discuss more 'options' for Regulus fake situation with the Death Eaters. "Well..." He began slowly, "unless the Dark Lord has an attack planned, I figure I will be here."

"Right." Sirius nodded. "Because I thought that, maybe, we could celebrate together. You and I. If you want to."

Regulus was practically gawking now. "You want to celebrate Christmas. With me?"

Sirius looked uncomfortable and he took a quip sip of his tea. "Well...yeah. My apartment feels sort of empty without any company, and Christmas alone is not something I'm looking forward to. Not that you should feel obligated to come, or anything," he hastily added.

"Umm...what about your friends?" Regulus asked, feeling increasingly awkward. Here Sirius was, trying to connect with him on a 'brotherly' level. And how did Regulus repay him? By planning treachery behind his back with the Dark Lord.

Sirius shrugged. "They've asked, but Mandy will be there. And I'm just not in the mood."

"Maybe I can come," Regulus said, silently looking down at his cup of tea. "For a little while, anyway."

"Great," Sirius said, smiling for the first time that day. "We could order in and watch TV."

Regulus gave him a dubious look. "Watch that muggle box thing? Is that actually fun?"

Sirius nodded. "It's really great," he promised.

"Alright then," Regulus said. Watching muggle television with his brother on Christmas was nothing of a sacrifice compared to the one Sirius would be making, if Regulus managed to turn him to the Dark Lord. He swallowed what remained of his tea in one gulp, welcoming the burn in his throat from the heat. He owed Sirius. So much, and Regulus didn't think he could ever repay him.

Not without turning his back against the dark for real.

And if he did, the only thing he _could _repay Sirius with, would be his life.

* * *

**19 December**

"Ah, Regulus," Voldemort smiled. "Talk to me. How are things going with your brother?"

Regulus gulped. "It's...going fairly well, my Lord," he said, ignoring the way his stomach turned. "Sirius is open for helping me, but so far I have been unable to convince him your ways are the best." He hesitated. "He has asked me to join him for Christmas."

"Continue," the Dark Lord said coolly.

"H-he puts a lot of trust in Dumbledore and his friends. I-I don't think he will join you, my Lord," Regulus admitted.

"You have failed, then," the Dark Lord stated, red eyes blazing.

Regulus trembled. "I am trying, my Lord," he lied, knowing very well that lately, his tries had been half-hearted at best. "But my brother is very strong-willed and stuck in his beliefs."

Voldemort smirked. "Partly why I want him beside me," he said. "His strength and determination would serve me well. But I am not surprised at your failure, Regulus. I always knew that Sirius Black would prove to be quite a challenge, even with you already by my side."

Regulus bowed his head.

"No matter," the Dark Lord dismissed. "He might still prove useful, but leave him alone for now. It is clear brotherly duty will not be enough to convert him to our way of thinking."

Regulus flinched, inwardly believing Sirius had gone above and beyond any form of owed loyalty to his family – especially considering they hadn't been much of one over the years. But he said nothing.

"Join him at Christmas, but let that be your last attempt," Voldemort ordered. "I have a new mission for you."

Relieved his back-stabbing days against Sirius were over (at least for now), Regulus looked up, half-anticipating, half-dreading the orders that were about to come out of the Dark Lord's mouth.

"I want you to drop out of school," Voldemort said, and Regulus heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. School was something he'd always enjoyed; the familiar routine, the learning process, even the homework. He was good at it, too. And now he had to drop out? "I want you to help with the book you picked up."

Regulus flinched slightly, remembering how that had come about. The last thing he wanted was to set eyes on that dreaded item again.

"You are the only one of my followers who has been given the privilege of seeing it, let alone touching it. And I need a second pair of eyes and hands to help me unveil its secrets," he admitted, sounding reluctant, as though he felt slightly ashamed at not managing it on his own. "You are the only one I trust with this. The only one clever enough to be able to help." His smirked. "Besides, I wouldn't have it if it weren't for your tenacious searching... I figure you want to see it through."

Regulus bowed deeply. "I feel honoured, my Lord," he mumbled, though he felt sick.

"As you should be," Voldemort sounded pleased. "This opportunity, to aid me with something that lies so close to my heart does not come by often." His red eyes blazed for a second. "Do not even _dare_ to fail me."

Regulus dropped his eyes to the floor. "I wouldn't dream of it, my Lord," he muttered.

* * *

**21 December**

"So, you may all wonder why I summoned you to this meeting," Buffy said, wringing her hands nervously. Not everyone from the Order had been able to make it, due to various reasons: Peter was at his mothers, Samantha had claimed illness, Remus was with Greyback, McGonagall with family, and Moody had to work.

Alice smiled her kindly. "It's alright. We're all very curious."

"Yeah, because none of us have anything better to do four days before Christmas," Caradoc said, slightly testily.

"Didn't get enough beauty-sleep, Dearborn?" Gideon Prewett asked with a wide grin.

Caradoc glared. "You worry about your own beauty, Prewett," he muttered, crossing his arms.

Fabian frowned, patting his hair in mock-worry. "Does that mean I should be worried about my beauty as well?"

"Yeah!" Gideon agreed, nodding. "Cause, we're, you know – "

" - _Identical!"_ The twins chorused, chortling.

Caradoc rolled his eyes. "Why do I even bother?" He muttered, burying his face in his palms as the rest of the Order sniggered. Everyone except Sirius, who was staring at the tabletop with a frown on his face.

"As much as I hate being a kill-joy," Edgar Bones said, rising his hand, "didn't Buffy insist on having this meeting for a reason?"

"I concur," Dumbledore said. "I have to admit, Buffy, I am curious."

Lily gave the Headmaster a surprised look. "You mean you don't know?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Alas, no, Buffy insisted on telling the Order together."

Buffy cleared her throat. "Yes. Anyway, this happened four days ago. Mandy – that's Mandy Walker, a friend of mine – and I had just gotten home from Kings Cross. Umm, she's staying with me for Christmas." She threw a look in Sirius' direction, but didn't get a reaction. "At any rate, we were attacked by vamps. Four of them."

Sirius' head finally snapped up. "Is Mandy alright?"

"Do you care?" Buffy asked with a raised eyebrow, but as soon as she caught sight of Sirius' anguished expression, she regretted her shallow remark. "I'm sorry, Sirius, that was uncalled for," she apologised. "And Mandy is fine, don't worry. They got a bite out of her, but she's fine."

"That's alright. I think I deserved that," Sirius muttered, his frown deepening as he heard Mandy had been wounded.

"As interesting as this conversation is," Caradoc cut in dryly, "I think we have more important things to talk about then your _love squabbles."_

Buffy flushed. "Yeah. Right. Umm…so I figure Voldemort has put his vampires to work sooner than we expected. And…that's pretty much what I wanted to say."

"Why target Buffy?" Dorcas Meadows asked out loud. "Or was it Mandy Walker the vampires were after?"

Buffy shook her head. "I doubt it. I figure they were just laying in wait for me."

"Can Voldemort know about Buffy being the Slayer?" Lily asked, throwing a worried look in her best friend's direction.

"Unlikely," Dumbledore said. "Who would have told him? No. I believe it is far more probable he has found out she is an Order member. It is simple enough to figure out, considering we almost always show up on places of attacks – and decided she made the easiest target."

"Then why vampires?" James asked. "Why not send Death Eaters?"

"Maybe he wanted us to second-guess. Had he sent Death Eaters, it would have been clear he was behind it. Vampires, however, would be harder to pin on him, as he has not yet used them in public," Dumbledore mused. "It could also be he wanted to test them, before sending them into battle. Luckily, Buffy is not so easily killed." He smiled at the Slayer.

"Was it difficult?" Benjy Fenwick asked. "To kill them, I mean. What spell did you use? Sunlight spells are known for being mostly ineffective, unless it's on a newly risen vampire. And fire is not that easy to conjure on short notice, especially not under pressure."

"Nah." Buffy shrugged. "Your standard run-of-the mill vamp."

"Meaning?" Edgar asked dryly. Buffy frowned as she saw everyone was staring at her questioningly, and she made a pumping gesture with her right fist.

"…Wanking?" James suggested after a long silence, earning himself a slap from Lily and incredulous stares from the rest of the Order, even though half of them had been thinking pretty much the same thing.

Buffy blushed. "Staking. Wands made of wood are quite handy, sometimes."

"You staked four vampires?" Dorcas asked respectfully. "With your _wand?"_

"Well…yeah," Buffy shrugged. "I _am_ the Slayer, you know."

"Completely blasphemous," Caradoc grumbled under his breath. "Using a wand to stake vampires..."

"What I think the Order is trying to say," Dumbledore said, "is that knowing and believing are two quite different things. Though they intellectually know you're the Slayer, it is a fact that is hard to grasp until they can see you in action themselves. Especially since before your arrival, it was hardly more than a myth. And," he chuckled, "you're not exactly what one thinks of when they hear the word 'Slayer.'"

"Yeah, that's me," Buffy said dryly. "Miss incognito."

"Actually, I'm thinking more in the lines of 'cheerleader'," Frank smirked.

Buffy flushed. "Actually, I was a – never mind," she hastily added as everyone's eyes turned to her again. There were some phases of her life that did not need repeating out loud. _Ever._ She still had nightmares about the 'Macho man' song.

"Well, I saw Buffy in action during the attack on London," Marlene said. "And if I didn't believe her before, I certainly did afterwards. Don't you agree, Caradoc? You saw it too, after all." She said sweetly, knowing the man hated handing out compliments to _anyone._

"Yeah, yeah, she's super," Caradoc muttered sourly.

"Unless there is anything else, I suggest we part ways," Dumbledore said. "And don't forget to check up on your wards, and don't invite any strangers into your home. In fact, it would be best if everyone refrained from inviting _anyone_ verbally into their homes from now on," the Headmaster cautioned and the mood turned glum as everyone caught the thinly veiled insinuation: No one could be completely safe from being turned.

"Actually, I was sort of wondering if you'd heard anything from Remus yet," Buffy asked Dumbledore hesitantly. "I know communications from where is are quite limited, but he's supposed to check in with you, right?"

"I'm sorry, Buffy, but I can't give you any news," Dumbledore said kindly, and Buffy's shoulders slumped. "I have not heard anything from Remus since he first left. But I am sure he is fine."

"Yeah," Buffy mumbled, trying to ignore Lily's sympathetic look – right now, it felt more like pity. "Of course he is."

* * *

**25 December**

"Merry Christmas!" Lily said, stretching out a soft package towards Buffy. She, Buffy, Mandy and James were celebrating Christmas together. They had asked Sirius, but he'd declined (Lily figured it was due to Mandy's presence), as well as Samantha, but she'd said she still felt ill, adding that Peter was celebrating with his mother this year. So it was just the four of them. They had opted for Godric's Hollow rather than the Lupin cottage since Buffy said that even with them there, it would feel empty without Remus.

"Thanks!" Buffy tore open the package, revealing a white knitted polo-sweater. "Did you make this, Lils?" She asked, quite jealous of Lily's talent. The only thing she could do with knitting needles was jab someone in the eye.

"Yes," Lily said modestly. "Do you like it?"

Buffy grinned, holding it up in front of her. "It's brilliant. Here." She threw one package each at Mandy, Lily and James.

"You got us stakes?" James asked, laughing, and Buffy shrugged.

"Comes in handy, especially now that we know vampires are running around. And they're a bit sturdier than your wands."

Mandy grinned, appreciating the gift, especially when she saw the engraving at the side of it: There was a small raven, alongside the name _Mandy Walker._

"They're so beautiful," Lily said, admiring her own engraving: Her name beside a lily flower. "I never thought I'd say this about a stake of all things, but they are."

"Thanks," Buffy blushed.

"Kind of a shame to use them," James commented, while tracing the engraved stag on his own personalized stake absently. "How long did it take to make these?"

"A few hours, with the carving, sharpening and polishing," Buffy said. "The engraving was the easiest. I found a really nifty spell for that. Took a few tries to get it right, though."

"Well, they're lovely," Mandy said, throwing her presents in the lap of her three friends. "Here's for you."

To James, she'd given a fake laser-sword ("Awesome!"), Lily had gotten a hooded cloak, and Buffy a book on recipes ("because your own so-called-cooking is inedible").

Several hours later, after much laughing and rejoicing, Buffy and Mandy finally said their goodbyes to their friends, and apparated back to the cottage.

As they walked the short path towards the building, Mandy got a strange sense of déjà vu when she saw a shadow sitting on the porch. "Buffy," she hissed, grabbing her friend's arm.

Buffy's eyes narrowed. Her spider-sense wasn't tingling, but better safe than unsafe. She pulled out her wand, watching Mandy pull out her new stake from her purse, and they slowly approached the dark shape. As they got closer, it rose, and Buffy's eyes widened as the light from the moon illuminated the figure. Her wand dropped from her hand in shock. "Remus..." She could feel her eyes tearing up, and then she was practically flying across the grass into her boyfriend's waiting arms.

"Buffy," Remus whispered hoarsely, hugging her tightly as their lips met. Finally, after what felt like forever – but not long enough – they parted. "Merry Christmas," Remus mumbled, and Buffy let out a choked laugh.

"You stink," she muttered. "But I don't care." She smiled shakily. "I'm so glad you're back."

"Likewise," Remus said, and leaned in to kiss her again, but was interrupted by Mandy clearing her throat behind them.

"Hello, Remus," she said.

"Hi, Mandy," Remus scratched the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed. "Merry Christmas, and all that."

"You too," Mandy said dryly, giving Buffy a raised eyebrow. "I'm figuring you're happy to see each other?"

Buffy was still grinning stupidly. "Understatement of the year."

"Uh huh," Mandy nodded wryly. "And I'm also figuring, from the teary reunion, you weren't on a business trip."

Buffy and Remus exchanged looks. "We can explain – "

Mandy held up a hand. "No need. I can guess. Anyway, I'll leave you two lovebirds to it. Key, please."

Wordlessly, Buffy threw it to her, and Mandy unlocked the door, eyes twinkling as she closed it behind her. "See you in the morning, and don't forget silencing charms."

In the dark, Buffy and Remus blushed.

"Are you alright?" Remus wondered staring down at Buffy with a solemn look on his face, and so much was said with just his expression, his eyes asking what words couldn't convey: Whenever he had asked before regarding Buffy's sudden positive stance in regards to killing, she had always changed the subject, or near bit his head off, after all.

Buffy smiled. "Yes." And it was true. The vampire attack had left her clear-headed and had allowed her to sort out her feelings, making her realise exactly how close she had gotten to crossing a line. She might not have been acting like a Death Eater, but her thoughts had been dark – too dark, and it had scared the hell out of her.

A long, good cry later, and Buffy had realised it might be best if she stayed off the battlefield for awhile: She had tried so hard to be useful, to fight like a witch – but the truth was, she was the Slayer, first and foremost, and along the way, she had lost herself by trying to be someone she wasn't, just because she wanted to help.

She had so much power, both magical, and the physical prowess that came from her calling, and she had to be so careful not to abuse it. By stopping to care about humans, even if they were Death Eaters, she had already taken a first step towards the side she was made to fight against. And with her power, it would be so easy to let go of the responsibility...to use it for her own ends. But it wasn't her job to pass judgement. She was a protector. A Slayer, not a killer. The distinction might seem fine, but it was an important one, and something Buffy was now determined to keep clear in her mind.

She could still help, especially now when vampires were in the game. And wasn't she a Healer now, too? Well, Healer-in-training, but the point was, before she was dragged out to fight against Voldemort, she had made a choice – to be something more than just a fighting machine. When James had been hurt in Plymouth, she had completely forgotten that. And she had forgotten that James had made a choice – they had all made a choice – to fight. Her friends would get hurt. She knew that now. But it was their choice to take the risk, and she couldn't change that.

"Are you sure?" Remus asked quietly.

Buffy smiled, standing up on her tip-toes to kiss him. "Absolutely."

A few seconds later, the bushes rustled ominously, and Buffy tensed, spinning around warily. Remus put a hand on her shoulder. "It's alright," he said loudly, and Buffy, slightly confused, realised it wasn't her he was speaking to. "You can come out now."

The bushes rustled again, and Buffy's eyes widened in surprise for the second time that night as a dirty-looking boy, about ten years old, stepped through.

"This is Jasper," Remus said quietly, putting his hands on the boy's shoulder once he reached them. "He will be staying with us for awhile. If it's alright?" He threw Buffy a pleading look, and as she saw the lost look on the boy's face, she found herself nodding.

* * *

"You didn't have to get me anything," Regulus said, embarrassed, as he slowly opened the small package.

Sirius' shrugged. "It's no big deal."

Regulus nodded, finally finished with unwrapping, and confused, he held up a... "...Muggle key-ring?" He asked, dubiously, staring at the small, fluffy black dog hanging from it, tongue lolling out.

Sirius flushed, and pulled out a key from his pocket, throwing it to Regulus. "It's a key. To this apartment," Sirius said, after several seconds had passed by and Regulus had just stared from the key-ring to the key, uncomprehending. "You're supposed to attach it to each other..." He trailed off, inwardly wincing, and wondering if this had been such a good idea, after all.

"I know what it's for," Regulus said calmly. Very calmly, in fact. "Sirius...you can't mean this." He held the two items up in front of him, the small dog looking ridiculous as it dangled back and forth.

Sirius shrugged. "You're my brother, Reg, and I meant it when I said you can come to me at anytime. The key's yours. It was supposed to be Mandy's when she graduated, but..." He trailed off again before taking a deep breath. "Anyway, it's yours now. It's a portkey as well, if you need a...quick escape," he added uncomfortably. "The password is 'sanctuary.' Maybe cliché, but it works."

"Thanks," Regulus said quietly, attaching the key to the ring, before stuffing it down in his pocket. To his embarrassment, he could feel tears in his eyes. To give him access to his apartment like that, even knowing that Regulus was a Death Eater (even if Sirius believed he didn't want to be), it showed a lot of trust. Trust he didn't deserve. "I didn't get you anything..."

"That's okay," Sirius assured him. "You showed up, didn't you?"

Regulus smiled slightly. "It's getting dark," he noted, looking out the window. "Maybe I should get going..." Suddenly, he wanted nothing more but go home and cry. Merlin, he was pathetic. It was just a _key,_ for Salazar's sake!

"You can stay the night," Sirius hurriedly said. "I don't have an extra bed yet, but I can sleep on the sofa." He looked extremely hopeful, and again, the guilt struck Regulus head on: Sirius was lonely. And it was, for the most part, his fault.

"Umm...mother and father are probably expecting me back by now," he excused himself, hardly able to look at his brother's puppy-dog expression, or the way it fell at his rejection.

"Oh."

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself: "But it's not like they celebrate Christmas much anyway..." Awkwardly, he continued: "So...if you want me to stay, I guess I could. But _I'm_ taking the sofa."

As Regulus saw the way Sirius' face lit up, he realized feeling slightly ill at ease in his brother's presence was a small price to pay for getting to see that smile.

No one should have to be alone.

* * *

Samantha sat staring at the clock, watching as the minutes ticked by. Swallowing her tears, she finally tore her eyes away from the offensive item: She hated time. She hated that it wouldn't obey her wishes, that she couldn't turn it back, or forward. She hated that as much as she prayed for better times, it only got worse.

She hated that Peter Pettigrew couldn't keep the time, and she hated that she expected him to.

She hated all the broken promises and lies.

She hated herself for hoping.

The last time she'd seen Peter for an extended period of time was the day after they picked up Mandy from the station. During that day, he had said he'd be staying at his mother's for awhile, that they needed a break from each other. They had argued; fought again – something they seemed to be doing constantly lately. But at least he'd promised to be home and celebrate Christmas with her.

All lies, Samantha realized, especially as she'd flooed Peter's mother – and she hadn't seen him since graduation. When the Order meeting had been called on Buffy's insistence, four days ago, Samantha had stayed home, claiming she was ill. The truth was she couldn't bring herself to go, not when she felt the way she did in her heart: Betrayal, pain, loss.

Still, she'd hoped Peter would have come home tonight – he had promised. But it was almost midnight, and he hadn't arrived.

Blowing out the candles she'd lit around the apartment, Samantha sank down onto the sofa, crying herself to sleep as the clock ticked away.

* * *

**31 December**

Regulus was the assigned lookout standing watch as the rest of the Death Eaters wrecked havoc in the buildings on the dark muggle street. As Regulus heard the screams and cries of pain coming from the people inside (men, women_, children..._), he couldn't help but be grateful he wasn't expected to do anything but guard.

It was his first raid, and he was already sickened by what he'd heard and seen.

The muggles didn't deserve this. He remembered watching the television with Sirius, and he couldn't help but feel slightly awed at the invention. Muggles didn't have any magic, but they got by anyway. They deserved to live as much as any witch or wizard. As the thought crossed his mind, he couldn't help but think how ironic things were: He'd been given the mission to 'convert' Sirius, but at the moment, it felt more like the other way around. He flinched as he heard a baby's cry suddenly fall silent.

He let his mind wander again, trying to shut the noise out. He wondered about the book, the way it affected people...the knowledge the Dark Lord had said it contained. Should it really be in the Dark Lord's hands? Should it be in anyone's? He hadn't yet begun to work on it with his Lord, but it was only a matter of time. And he couldn't help but dread what sort of information he'd find inside of it.

Some things were better off hidden or buried, and he was starting to believe the book was one of them. Especially considering the destruction the Dark Lord was already wrecking without it.

He wished he never would have found the damn thing.

When he'd joined the Dark Lord, it was because his parents expected it. And because everything he'd – and they'd – heard about him was awe-inspiring: A revolutionary, he was said to be. A brilliant mind, a powerful wizard that would save the wizarding world, make sure their way of life was preserved.

But Regulus was beginning to finally put together that all the Dark Lord did, was destroy it.

The door to the house he was guarding opened, and a short Death Eater stepped out. Peter Pettigrew, covered in someone else's blood, a grin on his face. Regulus felt sick at the realisation Pettigrew was here partly because of him...he had helped build on Pettigrew's weaknesses, to make him more susceptible to the Dark Lord's promises.

"Next time, Regulus, it's your turn," Peter promised him and Regulus smiled weakly.

"Can't wait," he lied, trying to ignore the way his stomach churned.

* * *

The door clicked open and Samantha woke up, immediately wide awake. Standing up from the bed, she decided this had to end. They couldn't keep up pretences much longer. _She _couldn't. During Peter's long absence from home, she'd had a lot of time to think, and she had come to realise things weren't good between the two of them. Hadn't been, for a long time. And the way Peter had been treating her wasn't right, and she was done listening to his lies and false promises, of lying to his friends for him. "Where have you been?" She asked, voice slightly raised.

Peter turned around, startled, and winced, as he'd hoped Samantha wouldn't notice his entry. So much for sneaking. "Out," he mumbled, trying to make his way to the bathroom and avoid any further confrontation, but that was not to be:

Samantha grabbed his arm, stopping him from leaving the room. ""I've had enough, Peter. _Talk _to me," she demanded, eyes blazing.

"I don't _want_ to talk," Peter retorted, hoping Samantha would drop the subject, like she had before, but her determined look didn't falter.

"Well, _I do!" _She said. "I checked in with your mother – you haven't been there in ages. So don't even _think_ of lying to me. _Where have you been and what have you been doing?"_ Samantha repeated. "What's wrong with you lately? I hardly recognize you."

"It's none of your business," Peter snapped. Samantha finally dropped his arm.

"It never is," she said bitterly, looking down. That's when she noticed red droplets were dripping onto the floor, coming from Peter's robes. "Is that..._blood?"_ She asked, incredulously, and she grasped hold of Peter's robes. "You're hurt!" But as she pulled his robes off of him, despite Peter's struggling her heart sank as she realised she'd been wrong in assuming the blood was Peter's. And sure enough...

"It's not mine," Peter muttered, yanking the robes back, not meeting Samantha's eyes.

"I don't understand," Samantha whispered, though she was beginning to. But Merlin, she didn't want to. "Peter...what...?"

"Stay out of it," Peter demanded.

"No! Tell me!" Samantha cried out. "You owe me that much, at least! You've been horrible to me, and don't you dare deny it!"

Peter's watery eyes blazed in fury. "Do you really want to know? Do you?"

"Yes!" Samantha exclaimed.

"Fine!" Peter snapped. "I'm a Death Eater, alright? And you know what else? I _like_ it. No one looks down on me, I'm not just the tag-along – I'm _important._ I don't have the mark yet, but it's just a matter of time."

"I have never looked down on you," Samantha said quietly, her heart breaking. It was so obvious now. She should have seen it before: The personality change, the way he acted... The lies and strange disappearances... Merlin, she was an idiot. "I just don't get it, Peter. _Why?_"

"Why _not?"_ Peter asked. "The Dark Lord is going to win. We don't stand a chance against him. The so-called light side, the Order...they're _weak, _stuck in their ways_._ The world needs to change, and You-Know-Who will be the one to do it. I'm only sorry I didn't realise it sooner."

Samantha was shaking her head, her entire body trembling. "I don't know you anymore," she whispered. "I don't understand... What about our friends? What about _me?"_

"What about you?" Peter shrugged callously. "And the others can go screw themselves, for all I care. They don't care about me. They never did. I was just the tail they could step on from time to time. But things are different now. _I'm _different now."

"I can see that," Samantha said brokenly, looking up at Peter's face. "Get out," she added after a short pause.

Peter looked taken aback. "W-what?"

"_Get out,_" Samantha repeated slowly, not knowing anything more than that she wanted to be alone. Needed to be alone. Her head was spinning, her heart beating wildly against her chest, like it was trying to make its way out of her ribcage. "Please, just go. I can't even look at you right now," she turned her back to him, not wanting to show him the way her face crumbled.

"Will you tell Dumbledore?" Peter asked, voice cold, wand pointing at her back.

Samantha laughed bitterly, putting on a mask of strength: She would not let him see her cry. "What? Are you going to kill me?" She spun back around to face him again, eyes blazing, not looking at all surprised that Peter's wand was out and pointing at her. "Guess what? You already did."

Peter lowered his wand, her response taking him aback somewhat: This was not the meek Samantha he was used to. This was much more Sirius' style – so melodramatic. Was she hoping it would make him feel guilty? Was she trying to manipulate him into changing his mind? Peter felt disappointed – he'd expected much more from her. "You won't talk," he said, sounding certain, pitying her for the fact that she couldn't see how wrong they'd all been, that she couldn't see what he saw: The Dark Lord would win and to stand against him was akin to suicide. "I'll be back tomorrow," he said, opening the door. "To get my stuff."

"Just go," Samantha demanded, not sure for how much longer she could keep her stoic mask together.

"I will," Peter said. Then, as though he wanted to pour more salt in the wounds, he walked forward and hugged her, placing a kiss on the cheek. "For what it's worth," he whispered in her ear, watching as a tear slipped from her eye, "I wish things wouldn't be this way." Then, he stood, and left. As the door closed behind him, Samantha lost all sense of the self-control she'd had during his visit, and she burst out into wild tears.

Gasping for breath, she sank to the floor, eyes riveted on the drying droplets of blood that had landed there from where they'd fallen from Peter's robes. She couldn't think. She didn't want to.

How had her life turned out this way?

Slowly, almost as if in a trance, Samantha stood up, turning off all the lights and pulling down all the curtains, until she was surrounded by darkness: In the dark, she felt better, like the encompassing black would hide her from having to deal with the bitter truth of what she'd just found out.

She wished she could have stayed in ignorance. Did that make her weak? Probably, she thought with a snort.

Sinking down in the sofa, Samantha stared straight ahead into the dark, no sound leaving her mouth, no sob, even as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, which no longer seemed as comforting as just a moment ago. The streetlamps from outside were casting shadows, even through the drawn curtains, covering everything like a dark cloak, mocking her for not having seen how the darkness had slowly invaded her life in the form of an innocent boy who suddenly was everything but.

All over the room, she could slowly make out items and objects that reminded her of her life together with him _(the record-player he'd given her once, his shirt hanging on a chair, the book they'd been reading together...)_. Everything she was, was thanks to Peter. Peter had been the one to put her back together.

And now, he'd destroyed her – _utterly._

She wished she had never met him.

She swallowed heavily. Her head was throbbing, her shoulders trembled, and it felt as though her heart was on the verge of being split in two. Just _breathing_ hurt, and all she wanted was for the pain to end.

Samantha knew if she told the Order about Peter, or even threatened to do it, she would die – and Peter was obviously not above doing the deed himself. And if she didn't, she'd still die – it would destroy everything that made her _Samantha_ – that made her a good person. It was like she'd said. Either way, she was already dead. The question was, would it be a physical death, or a mental one? Her heart was dead already.

Shaking her head to clear it, she grabbed a quill and parchment lying on the table, and began to write.

* * *

_**Published: **__25/08 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- The 'pumping gesture' Buffy does with her fist during the Order meeting is unashamedly taken from BTVS 4x10: "Hush," seen during Giles slideshow.  
- Buffy being a cheerleader and the 'Macho Man' song can be seen and heard in BTVS 1x3: "Witch."  
- The knitted polo sweater Buffy got from Lily in Christmas present was inspired by the one she wore in BTVS 4x20: "The Yoko Factor."


	14. Wrong

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**1 January, 1979**

Come early morning, Peter slowly made his way up the stairs leading from the store to his and Samantha's apartment. Outside the door, he stopped, with a hand on the handle. This wasn't a confrontation he wanted. Mostly because he wasn't sure what to say: What if she had decided to tell the Aurors or the Order? He would have to kill her then. If Samantha had told them already, there wasn't much he could do, except run, but he doubted it.

She was too weak to do that, he tried to tell himself. Just as much as he'd doubted she'd told, he doubted she would have come around to his way of thinking: Samantha would never join the Dark Lord, and either way, he very much doubted the Dark Lord would accept her in his ranks.

Taking a deep breath, fingering his wand, he opened the door. "Samantha?"

The apartment was dark, curtains drawn, even though it was the middle of the day. Had she taken off somewhere? Turning on the lights, he inhaled sharply as his eyes landed on the bed.

She was laying there, on bloody sheets, still, pale-faced, her wrists slit: A shard from a broken picture frame still resting in her palm. Approaching slowly, Peter held his breath, his heart beating wildly: This, he had not expected. Though, he had to admit, it erased most of his problems. But what a _muggle _way to go...

Slowly, he picked up an envelope on the bedside table, addressed with _Peter._

_Peter, _the letter began,

_I don't know how we got to this point. To be honest, I don't know much of anything, anymore. I used to have so many dreams, about what my life after school would be like. Once I met you, most of them revolved around us. _

_I thought you were my salvation from my loneliness, from the darkne__ss. Then, tonight, when I realised what you've become, I understood how wrong I was. I suppose war changes people, and I was a fool to think things would stay the same between us._

_I'm not going to waste this parchment on telling you how much I hate you. I hate the choices you've made, but I don't hate you. I don't even pity you for being weak, because I am too. Truth is, I don't feel much of anything right now. I feel numb. Heartbroken__. Tired._

_Your pointed wand at me yesterday proved that you're not above murder. I thought I'd save you the trouble. I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of killing me twice: Like I told you before you left, you already did. And don't pretend I would have lived as long as I kept my mouth shut – it wouldn't be up to you. The Death Eaters would never let me walk around with the knowledge of you being one of them. You might think you suddenly have gained power – but the truth is, you're nothing more than a puppet, a means to an end. Sooner or later, you'll reali__se that, and remember what you've lost._

_This is my second letter. My first has already been sent to a certain James Potter, Auror. I'm sure you can guess what it said. For a whole minute, I was actually seriously considering not telling anyone about you joining You-Know-Who. I'm not sure why – I don't owe you anything, and God knows how much damage you'd have managed to cause if I'd kept silent. In the end, in telling, I'm saving myself from an eternity of guilt in the afterlife, and I'd like to think of it as a way of me saving you from yourself: One last favor, even though you probably don't see it that way. _

_I suppose, even now, I still want to believe in you. I want to believe that deep down, you're still a good person. I want to believe that the boy I got to know and came to love is still in there, somewhere. You don't have to tell me how foolish that is – believe me, I'm more than aware of it already. But maybe Azkaban will change your mind, make you regret the day you turned away from us all, and come back to your senses._

_I hope it does. _

_Finally, I'm sorry for any pain I unintentionally cause you, if I made you feel as lonely as I once did. But I'm not going to take the blame for you changing sides, if you somehow have been trying to rationalize it by telling yourself __that I, or someone else, drove you to do it. It was your choice. I just hope you can live with it._

_Samantha_

Crumpling up the letter in his hand and throwing it on the floor, Peter made it go up in flames with a swish of his wand. He'd underestimated her. And it was a mistake that could cost him his freedom. With a loud 'crack' he apparated away to Godric's Hollow. Maybe, he prayed, it was not too late to fix the mess Samantha had caused in betraying him.

* * *

"_Alohomora,"_ Peter whispered at the closed door of Godric's Hollow, then tested the handle again. It didn't budge. Peter swore angrily, hating James' stupid security measures, and hating himself for not being better at unlocking wards. Of course, he'd never expected he would need to do some breaking and entering.

Suddenly, he heard an angry hoot from the corner, along with sounds of a beak hitting glass: Making his way around the corner of the house, Peter stopped in his tracks when he saw the owl perched on the window sill of one of the bedrooms, pecking angrily at the glass. He could have laughed in relief when he saw a letter still in its claws, the envelope covered in Samantha's handwriting.

He hadn't been too late. James hadn't gotten the letter, and since he hadn't heard the owl, he and Lily probably weren't home, and if they were, they clearly had the intention of ignoring the owl and sleeping for a few more hours. The owl had stopped its pecking and was now peering at Peter with a cocked head. Then, deciding Peter was not the one the message was intended for, it resumed its pecking.

With slow movements, as to not startle the bird, Peter drew his wand: He knew he had no chance in Hell of convincing the owl to leave him the letter – post owls were notoriously known for not rescinding letters to anyone other than the intended recipient. _"Stupefy!"_

The owl, stunned, fell to the ground, and Peter quickly grabbed the letter, not even bothering to read it before destroying it like he'd done with Samantha's suicide note. Then, he eyed the stunned bird warily. It wasn't like the owl would tell anyone what had happened...still, he didn't fancy being pecked to death once he revived it, or it alerting someone to something being wrong somehow: It might be a bird, but it was an intelligent one, and he'd rather not take the risk. _"Incendio."_

Watching impassively as the owl turned to ash, Peter smiled. Samantha had been stupid to send the letter to James, rather than the Auror Department or Dumbledore himself. In the end, he'd won. With the letter destroyed; no one knew the truth. Samantha was dead, so she couldn't even try to blab again, and he hadn't had to do the deed of killing her – she'd done that for him. He was safe. In the end, like she'd written in her letter, Samantha _had _done him a favor. Just not the one she'd thought. Satisfied, he spun on his heel, apparating away with another loud 'crack.'

* * *

"What a way to spend New Year's day," Buffy said ruefully while hugging Mandy goodbye. "Voldemort sucks," she added with a grin.

The Hogwarts Express was leaving several days earlier than usual, due to an anonymous tip to the Aurors Department about a possible attack on the train planned for the normal departure date: All students had gotten an owl from the school regarding the changed timetable a couple of days after Christmas. When Mandy had gotten hers, she had immediately decided to make the best of the time that was left.

As such, New Years Eve had been spent partying in London with Lily and James, who had both gotten home very late, falling asleep in a drunken stupor (even Lily – James had somehow managed to get her to agree to a drinking contest – Mandy still wasn't sure how). Remus and Buffy had both opted for a calm night in with Jasper at home, and considering Mandy's head was still pounding, she was pretty sure it had been the right idea. She envied Lily's talent in potions – more specifically, her ability to whip up a hangover cure in a matter of two minutes – from the look on the two Potters, it was clear they weren't suffering from any major headaches

"It's really not that big of a deal," Mandy shrugged. "At least, not for me. As for you…" her eyes twinkled as she grinned at Buffy and Remus, "I bet you're just glad to have me out of your hair."

Remus scratched his neck awkwardly. "Uhh…"

"Just kidding," Mandy said brightly, turning to hug Lily goodbye, and then James. "Do you know were Sam and Peter are? I thought they'd be here to wave me off…"

James shrugged. "I figure Wormtail is still with his mother, as for Sam, maybe she's with her brother and father? Lily called her on her fellytone but didn't get an answer."

"It's _telephone,"_ Lily rolled her eyes. "How you passed muggle studies is beyond me," she added with a mutter.

From the wink James gave Mandy when the red-head wasn't looking, the Ravenclaw was pretty sure James knew exactly what a telephone was called, and only said otherwise to annoy his wife. From the giggle Buffy barely managed to hold back, it was clear she thought so too.

A 'crack' of an apparition sounded, and Peter appeared on the platform, looking slightly stressed, but happy. "Hi, guys!"

"Peter, what a surprise!" Lily greeted.

"I thought I'd find you here," Peter said with a grin. "I was just over at Godric's Hollow, hoping to wish you both a happy New Year, but when you weren't home, I remembered Mandy is returning to Hogwarts, so I came here."

"Where have you been lately?" James asked. "We've missed having you around."

Peter shrugged. "I spent New Year's at my mother's, and I'm heading back there after I've waved Mandy goodbye." The lie came easy, and after a quick memory charm thanks to Avery, who'd been more than happy to do him a favour when hearing why Peter needed it (Peter was not sure his own attempt at the charm would work), his mother thought he had, in fact, spent all of New Year's _and_ Christmas with her. "She's been feeling lonely lately. Glad to see you're back, Remus," he told the werewolf, who smiled.

"Glad to be back. So where is Samantha?"

Peter shrugged. "Busy with her shop, I guess. I haven't really spoken to her lately." He bit his lip. "We're having some trouble, and I think we're headed towards a break-up."

"No!" Mandy gasped. "Really? But you've always seemed so perfect for each other!" The other Marauders, Lily and Buffy echoed there agreements, and Peter smiled weakly, inwardly clapping himself on the back for his award-worthy performance.

"So did I. But I guess we've just been growing apart. Sam is so busy with her career and I want to focus more on us."

"Well, I suppose that happens," James patted him on the back comfortingly. "But who knows? Everything might work out? Maybe all you need is to sit down and _talk to each other?_" He gave Mandy a meaningful look, and the Ravenclaw rolled her eyes at the clear hint about Sirius.

"Yeah," Peter said. "Maybe. I'm going back to the flat tomorrow – I'll try to talk her then."

"That's the spirit!" Lily smiled widely. "Some would do well to take a page out of your book." Like her husband, Lily threw Mandy a look, which the brunette ignored, and two seconds later, Remus started in:

"Oh, look - Sirius is over there," he remarked all-too-casually, nodding towards a pillar against which the older Black-brother was leaning. "Aren't you going to say hello, at least?"

Mandy pursed her lips together, not at all happy with her friends' blatant interference. "It's not like he's here to see _me_ off, anyway…"

Buffy sighed. "How long are you going to keep ignoring each other? So you broke up. Big deal. You can still be friends, can't you?"

"Oh, I see Lucan and Belinda waving for me," Mandy remarked hurriedly, quickly changing the subject. Giving her friends one last hug each, she headed off towards the train, her trunk levitating after her. "Bye!"

As she stepped onto the train, Lily, Buffy, Remus and James exchanged rueful looks. "Things were so much simpler at Hogwarts, weren't they?" Peter asked them.

"Oh, yeah," Buffy agreed, watching as the train slowly left the station. "Let's go talk to Sirius, shall we?" But as they turned towards the pillar, Sirius was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

After the train took off, Sirius hurriedly left Platform 9 ¾ not particularly keen on a confrontation with his friends. That, and he was worried: Regulus, whom he was there to say goodbye to, hadn't showed up. Had he just missed the train, or was there something worse going on?

He clenched his fists together. If something had happened to Reg…

"Oi, Black!"

Sirius spun around and came face to face with Frank Longbottom. "Frank," he greeted. "What's up?"

"I'm glad I caught you," Frank remarked. "I tried to, after the Order meeting, but you disappeared so quickly."

"Is something wrong?" Sirius asked, frowning.

"Well, it depends," Frank mused. "Have a drink with me, Black," he requested.

"I'm not sure…" Sirius said hesitantly, wanting to try and find Regulus as soon as possible. "I'm in a bit of a hurry, actually…"

"I'm sure you can take the time," Frank said with a raised eyebrow, and Sirius was reminded that Frank was, technically, his superior, even if he wasn't his boss.

"One drink," he agreed, and Frank nodded, gesturing with his head to a muggle bar they just passed.

Once inside, seated with their drinks, Frank put up a privacy bubble around the two. "So, how are you, Sirius?" Frank asked carefully.

Sirius shrugged. "I'm fine." He frowned. "Is this about my work? Because I don't think I've made any mistakes…" He chewed his lower lip worriedly.

"No, your work is flawless," Frank agreed. "But it's not more than that."

"Pardon?"

"There's no spark in you, Sirius, and we've come to expect that, from both you and James," Frank said honestly. "You used to go far beyond what were required of you, but that's changed."

Sirius' shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't be sorry," Frank said. "Just talk to me. What's wrong? Is being an Auror as well as a member of the Order getting to be too much? You're still very young, and I understand if the pressure – "

" – I can handle the pressure," Sirius said shortly.

Frank nodded slowly. "Alright…Your ex-girlfriend, then," he guessed, and was rewarded by Sirius' flinch. "Mandy Walker, was it?"

"I guess…that's part of it," Sirius admitted quietly.

"Hmm." Frank sipped his drink in silence for a few seconds. "You know, it's more difficult than you think it is. To mix private with profession. Alice and I…when we first got married, we were straight out of school; we both joined the Aurors, and we both joined the Order… As newlyweds, that's not the easiest thing. Maintaining the balance…it's hard."

"How did you manage?" Sirius asked. "You seem like the perfect couple."

Frank chuckled. "Oh, we're not, believe me! We fight like cats and dogs sometimes. We've both come close to dying on several occasions already, and not knowing if the other is going to make it… At times, we just want to give up, wondering if the pain is worth it."

"Is it?" Sirius asked hopelessly.

Frank smiled, swallowing the last of his drink. "Well, that's the million galleon question, isn't it?" He asked. "For some it is, for some it isn't. If you want to know if breaking up with your girlfriend was the right thing to do, I can't answer that." He stood up. "Only you can. But I know, in my case, Alice is what I'm fighting for. She's what's keeps me alive, when things go to Hell. So…for me…yeah, it's worth it. A billion times over. And if I lose her in the end…" He shrugged. "I can't say what I'd do then. Or what I'd feel. But…if it comes to that…at least we would have had now. Something rather than nothing." He patted Sirius shoulder and lifted the privacy bubble. "Think about that."

* * *

**2 January**

Sirius frowned as he felt a shudder pass through him once he stepped up onto the stairs leading to his childhood home. Anxiously, he knocked on the door to Grimmauld place, weighing back and forth on his heels as he waited for the door to open. Why hadn't Regulus been on the train? Had something happened? What if he was lying dead in a ditch somewhere? What if –

The door swung open, revealing Kreacher. "The blood-traitor returns..." the elf muttered. "Staining the doorstep of his forefathers – "

" – Where is Regulus?" Sirius interrupted, easily pushing himself past the house-elf and entering the hallway without waiting for permission. "REGULUS!"

"What is all the yelling about?" His mother's shrill and loud voice said, as the matriarch entered the hall, coming to a stop once she caught sight of Sirius, her eyes narrowing dangerously. _"You!"_

"Yes, me," Sirius said impatiently. "Hello to you too, mother. Where is Reg?"

"What business is that of yours?" Walburga hissed out, eyes blazing. Sirius couldn't help but note his mother looked exhausted – old and tired. And while her clothing was impeccable, he noted it did not look as expensive as his family's robes used to.

"He's my brother – can't I be worried about him?" Sirius demanded to know.

"It's not like you care," his mother spat.

"I care," Sirius said quietly. "Just tell me where he is, and I'll leave. Why isn't he at school?"

"He is occupied. We have pulled him out of school."

Sirius' heart skipped a beat. _"What?_ Why?"

"Frankly, it is none of your business," Walburga said. "But if you really want to know, it is so he can commit to this family full time. Merlin knows you aren't."

Sirius flinched at the blatant slight. "But pull him out of school? He needs his education! I want to see him!"

"He's away on important business for the family," Walburga said promptly, nostrils flaring. "Now leave! You have made it perfectly clear you want nothing to do with us."

Sirius felt himself grow cold. "You're lying. He's with Voldemort, isn't he?"

SLAP.

Sirius felt his head being knocked sideways once his mother's blow to his face connected with his cheek. "Do not speak of things you don't understand!" Walburga hissed, hand still raised, though something akin to regret showed up in his mother's eyes. "And don't say his name!"

Sirius touched his hand to his reddened cheek were his mother had slapped him. "Touched a nerve, did I?" He said coldly, it wasn't the first time his mother had laid hand on him, but something was different this time: Yes, it had hurt, but still, it hadn't felt like his mother had put any power behind it. It was like she was going through the motions, like she hadn't wanted to hit him, but did it anyway. Like she wasn't truly angry at him, but rather, at someone else...

"You don't like it..." Sirius whispered in realization, noticing how his mother tensed up. "The Dark Lord. You don't like what he's doing."

"The Dark Lord's motives are above reproach," Walburga said, her entire body trembling.

Sirius' eyes narrowed in thought. "His motives, perhaps...but you don't agree with how far Voldemort's willing to go."

"Stop saying his name!" His mother breathed out harshly, eyes wide.

"You've been disillusioned," Sirius continued, ignoring his mother, certain he was on the right track. "And it wasn't your idea to pull Reg out of school, it was Voldemort's!"

"Get out," his mother demanded, pulling out her wand. "Leave, now!"

"And you're letting him! Voldemort's destroying Reg's future, and you know it!"

His mother grabbed him by the shoulders harshly. "Listen to me carefully, Sirius. You do not go against the Dark Lord's wishes and live to tell about it. Leave, and do not return here. Stop interfering in Regulus' life if you know what's good for you."

"You're afraid," Sirius breathed out, eyes widening. "I thought I felt something when I stepped onto the stairs... Father has strengthened the wards, hasn't he?" Sirius felt sick and his stomach lurched unpleasantly. If his parents were afraid...if they, who more than anything, believed in pureblood supremacy, were scared enough to strengthen the wards of their home - to even warn him, Sirius, who they had as good as disowned... How far into the darkness had Voldemort dabbled, that even his parents feared the course he was taking? How deeply had Regulus gotten himself involved?

"You can do nothing for your brother," Walburga said, opening the door and pushing Sirius outside. "Goodbye, Sirius." The door was shut and Sirius felt another shudder pass through him as he felt the heavy magic from the wards fall around the building, cloaking it in layers and more layers of protection.

Slowly, Sirius walked away, eyes glancing back anxiously at the house. _'Reg...what the hell have you gotten yourself into?'_

* * *

Entering his and Samantha's flat – no, just his now – again, having made sure he was seen arriving, Peter looked at Samantha's body lying on the bed, still in the position it had been two days ago.

He was slightly amazed at himself for holding up as well as he did – none of his friends had suspected a thing, his mother believed him to be a dutiful son to keep her company, and Peter was certain Avery and the other Death Eaters thought he was really cool for removing a potential problem from the equation by Samantha's death (even if he hadn't been the one to kill her) and intercepting the letter.

Shaking his head, Peter sighed: Samantha was pathetic. She'd killed herself because she couldn't deal with the real world. But Peter was strong, would be stronger, even, without her. He wouldn't allow himself to feel guilty over Samantha's weakness. Making his way towards the fireplace, he threw some floo-powder in. "Ministry of Magic, Magical Law Enforcement," he yelled. There was nothing standing in his way anymore.

* * *

"Peter," Lily threw her arms around him. "We came as soon as we heard."

Peter smiled weakly, trying to calm his beating heart. The Aurors had just left by portkey, taking Samantha's body with them. "I c-can't believe Sam could just kill h-herself," he said, knowing he had to put on a good act for his friends. They had bought his lies the first time around, but he couldn't allow himself to get complacent: Samantha had, and in trusting the letter would reach James, even when not delivering it in person, her plan had failed. Peter was still a free man, and would remain so if he had anything to say about it.

"She seemed a little down when I saw her last," Buffy remarked quietly. "But…not depressed enough to commit suicide. I don't understand…" She sniffed, gratefully accepting the hug from Remus. No matter how much death she experienced, it never became easier. And this...there was no evil behind this: Just a choice to stop living. There was nothing she could do, nothing she could slay, or fight. She felt so helpless.

"Maybe we're not supposed to," Remus said quietly, embracing Buffy tightly, as he tried to make sense of what had happened. Had something occurred when he was gone, to make Sam feel the need to do this? If he'd been around...would things be different? "Sometimes...things happen. And with the war going on, maybe it all became too much."

"We should have known something was wrong," Peter said, purposefully inserting anger in his tone of voice. _"__I_ should have known something was wrong when she just threw herself into her work rather than talk to me. I'm her boyfriend for Merlin's sake!"

"You've been at your mother's," Sirius said. "It's not your fault."

"I should have been here," Peter whispered, lowering his head. "Maybe – "

" - There's no use going over what ifs," Lily sniffed, leaning against James, trying to be objective. "All we can do is make sure it doesn't happen again. Right?" She asked, looking around at her friends, who all nodded. Lily burst into tears. "I can't believe this is happening..." she choked out between tears. There was no logic in this!

Samantha had always seemed so happy. Shy, at first, but during the course of their friendship, Lily felt Sam had really opened up. Nothing about her had said this was something she would ever do to herself. Lily could understand dying for a cause, dying in exchange for someone you loved...but suicide? Had she known Samantha at all? Did she know the rest of her friends? Her husband? Herself? What drove a person to do this?

"What did the Aurors say?" James asked Peter. Maybe Sam hadn't really killed herself. Maybe Death Eaters had, and Voldemort was behind it. That would make it easier to accept than this...a needless, pointless death. Why would anybody choose to die, just like that? No, there had to be something more going on...right?

"Moody said it seemed like a clean suicide." Peter tried to make his voice tremble. "He didn't suspect foul play, anyway."

"I'm so sorry, Pete," Sirius said, hugging Peter close. He too was feeling guilty. If he hadn't been so busy with Regulus lately...if he'd spent more time with his friends...would he have noticed something was wrong?

"Yeah...me too," Peter mumbled.

* * *

"Try it," Lucan prompted, holding up a fork with a piece of food on it for Belinda, once again situated at the Ravenclaw table, who wrinkled her nose in revulsion.

"I won't like it," she said. "I tried it once before, and it was disgusting."

"Not with this sauce on," Lucan encouraged. "I promise, it will be good."

Belinda gave him a sceptic look. "Seriously? I'll hate it."

"Please?" Lucan pouted. "I swear, you won't. And if you do...I'll just have to make it up to you," he winked, and someone further down the table made a barfing sound at the utter sweetness. Mandy couldn't help but partially agree, though she knew it was just jealousy rearing its ugly head: At times like these, she missed Sirius so much, she thought with a pang in her heart.

"Fine," Belinda gave in, taking the fork from Lucan, and, after gazing distastefully at the food, put it in her mouth, holding her nose as she chewed, then finally, swallowed.

"Well?" Lucan gave her an eager look. "How was it?"

Belinda licked her lips, cocking her head slightly. "It...was pretty okay. Actually, it was pretty good," she admitted ruefully and Lucan beamed.

"See? I told you so! I knew I could convince you! High five, Mandy!" He prompted, holding his hand up for Mandy, who rolled her eyes in chorus with Belinda, but nonetheless met his palm with her own. Lucan could be such a kid sometimes... Mandy felt another pang, as she remembered Sirius too could be quite childish when the situation called for it...actually, he could be pretty childish when it didn't, too. She supposed it was part of his charm. She sighed.

"Miss Walker," Mandy looked up in confusion as she felt a heavy hand fall upon her shoulder and she came face to face with the Headmaster. Dumbledore looked old, no sign of a twinkly in his blue eyes. She felt her heart drop. Had something happened? "Could you please come with me?"

Every eye in the Great Hall was upon them. "Has something happened?" Mandy asked, trying to keep her voice and legs from trembling as she stood up.

"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore said, bowing his head. The entire student body seemed to be holding its breath.

"Is it Sirius?" Mandy blurted out. They might not be together anymore, but she still cared. Hell, she still loved him. "Lily? James? Buffy? Samantha? Remus? Peter? Are they okay?"

"Mr. Black is fine," Dumbledore soothed, but Mandy noted he hadn't mentioned anything about the others. Suddenly, she felt as though the meal she had just eaten was about to come back up. "Why don't we take this in my office?"

Nodding slowly, Mandy followed the old Headmaster out of the Hall, as if in a trance. As soon as they were gone, the whispers started: After all, everyone knew Mandy had been a friend of the famous marauders, whose escapades were still being talked about, even now, months after their graduation. Had one of them died in the war?

Belinda slowly intertwined her hand with Lucan's, worriedly exchanging looks with her boyfriend. What had happened? "I'm sure it's nothing," Lucan mumbled, trying to assure himself as much as his girlfriend.

"You're right," Belinda said, nodding. "Everything is fine, I'm certain." But her face betrayed her doubt.

* * *

**January 7**

"No parent should have to bury their child," Mr. Lowell said quietly, squeezing his son's – Samantha's little brother, Will – hand tightly. "Now, I've buried two of them."

The Marauders looked at each other helplessly, not quite sure what to say to Samantha's father – he had had a hellish few months, first losing his wife and youngest daughter, now, he'd lost his oldest as well. 'I'm sorry' or any variation thereof wasn't near enough.

Will spoke the question crossing through their minds, voice cracking: "Why did she do it, dad? I want her back. Her, and mum, and Mel, and I wish everything could go back to the way it was before!"

"Me too, kiddo, me too," Mr. Lowell muttered, pulling his son – his only remaining child – into a tight hug. The war was destroying his family. And it was forcing William to grow up far too quickly.

"She's in a better place now," Mandy, who'd been given special permission from the Headmaster and her Head of House to be here, said, knowing her words didn't really make a difference, but she had to say them anyway.

"And what about us?" Will said, pulling away from his dad's embrace, eyes red-rimmed. "What about _us? _Why did she leave us?"

Yes, Mandy – and everyone else – thought, why had she left them? Never before had the saying 'dying is easy, living is hard' been so true. At least for the people left behind... When Dumbledore had summoned her to his office five days ago, never could Mandy have imagined this was why. She'd been mentally preparing herself for bad news: That one of her friends had been died in battle, somehow. Never, in a hundred years, could she have prepared herself for a suicide. It had never crossed her mind that one of her friends – that _Sam _– would have voluntarily killed herself. And for what?

Why? Why would she do something like that? Something was nagging at her – Mandy had a feeling there was something more going on here, something they didn't know – but she had no idea what it was, and in any case, even if they figured out the why, it wouldn't change anything. Samantha was gone, buried six feet under.

Without realizing it, her eyes travelled to Sirius' dark form – he looked terrible, pale, with dark circles around his eyes, like he hadn't slept for days. Without knowing why, her feet took her closer, until she was standing right next to him. "Hi," she said quietly.

Sirius smiled, a slightly wry, bitter smile that came out more like a grimace – as though it had been so long since his last smile that he'd forgotten how. "Hi."

"How are you doing?" Mandy found herself asking, immediately wincing. "Never mind. Stupid question. We're at a funeral for one of our friends – it should be sort of obvious neither of us is feeling top-notch..." She trailed off, feeling immensely stupid.

Silence fell between them, and, without knowing why, Mandy leaned a little closer, putting her head on his shoulder. She should be feeling awkward, she realised: After all, she and Sirius had broken up. Therefore, it came as a surprise when Sirius' arm settled around her waist, pulling her even closer. They should be feeling strange about this, Mandy thought, but, as she closed her eyes and buried one of her hands in Sirius' robes, all she could feel was the familiar comfort of his presence next to her.

This was what things should be like. Her, and Sirius, together, and suddenly, all she could think of what how stupid she'd been for breaking up with him. Samantha was gone, and life shouldn't be wasted, and she should have been more understanding, and she wished things were different, and yet, she wanted them to stay the same. To be frozen here, in this moment, because despite the grief, despite the total waste that Samantha's death was, she felt as though it had brought her and Sirius back together.

"I miss you," she whispered, and she wasn't quite sure if it was directed at Sirius, or Samantha, or maybe even both, but as snow began to fall softly, Sirius' arm around her tightened, and he said: "I miss you too." He sighed.

"I know I've been an arse," Sirius raised his head to the skies, revelling in the snowflakes melting against his skin. "And I know I can't possibly make up for that...but I want you back. I want us."

Mandy sniffled. "I want us too. I suppose...you never really know what you have until it's gone."

"Things will be different this time," Sirius vowed. "I promise. I'll make time for you. I'll answer every darn letter you send me, I swear."

Mandy let out a laugh. "You better," she muttered, nudging him with her shoulder.

"I will," Sirius said, grabbing her hand in his, squeezing it tight. "I won't let you go again. Life is too short for fighting." But even as he said that, his eyes travelled to settle on Remus, and he couldn't help but remember Regulus' words: _'The Dark Lord knows _everything._ There is no way you could spy on him in any way and _not_ be discovered...'_

How did Remus do it? Sirius wondered. Was Regulus right, and the Dark Lord knew already? If so…why hadn't he done anything about it? Sirius shuddered, pushing the suspicion about his friend away. Remus was loyal, he told himself. There was no way he was double-crossing them. So why was he doubting?

* * *

**8 January**

"Wormtail," Voldemort smirked coldly, greatly enjoying the sight of the Gryffindor kneeling at his feet. "So glad you could make it. I heard about your girlfriend...a pity. Still, I can't say I'm mourning all that much. She was just another half-blood, after all."

Peter looked up, eyes blazing, and as Voldemort skimmed across his simple mind, he inwardly chuckled at the utter predictability of the man's thoughts. Everything was going according to his plans. "Samantha was weak," Peter spat. "She didn't deserve me or what I could offer her. And I was getting tired of her anyhow," he finished, trying to ignore the small piece of his conscious that screamed at him for being an idiot, that Samantha was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Why was he feeling guilty all of sudden? He hadn't when he told her the truth, he hadn't when he found her body, he hadn't when lying to his friends and the Aurors – why now?

"Well, everything must have worked out _perfectly _for you then," the Dark said, satisfied.

"Yes," Peter gulped, firmly pushing away his screaming conscience. There was no going back now and he was not going to give Samantha the satisfaction – even in death – of showing any sort of regret.

Samantha was gone. The Dark Lord was right here in front of him, with the answer to everything he could possibly wish for. There would be new Samanthas, better ones, without her hang-ups. He could have – _would have_ – anything and everything he could possibly wish for. All that remained was for him to take it.

"I-I know I asked for a year to make up my mind, my Lord," Peter said. "And I-I know it hasn't been a year yet. B-but I don't need more time. I want in," he raised his jaw in stubbornness. "Completely. I've decided, and I want to take the mark. My Lord, I'm yours...utterly."

Cold, red eyes glinted in amusement. Poor bastard – Pettigrew had been his the moment he, the Dark Lord, first decided he wanted Peter in his ranks. Still – he would let the little Gryffindor have his illusions, that this was his decision – it wasn't like it was doing any harm. "I am most pleased to hear it," he said, thin lips widening. "Stretch out your arm."

Limbs shaking, Peter held out his left arm in front of the Dark Lord, shivering as pale fingers touched his skin, pulling up his sleeve, until; at last, he placed two of them against a spot on his inner forearm. Words in a strange language Peter didn't understand came out from the Dark Lord's mouth in a hiss, until... _"Morsmordre!"_

Peter screamed. Pain exploded behind his eyelids. His arm was burning, and his body tensed up in utter agony. His eyes rolled back into his head and colours flashed before his irises – for a minute, he thought he would pass out – and then, it was over. Choking, coughing, gasping, Peter bent double, wheezing and clutching his arm, now branded with a mark: The memory of the pain was like the real thing and he couldn't _breathe_...

"Who is your Lord?" Voldemort hissed out, and Peter looked up, squinting, eyes teary from the pain: The Dark Lord sat on his throne, a great figure, cloaked in shadow and magic, staring regally down at him, at the world, and he was the most beautiful and terrifying thing Peter had ever seen. "You are," Peter breathed out, bowing his head in fear and awe. "You are...Master."

* * *

_**Published: **__08/09 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Samantha's mother and little-sister, Melanie, were killed during Road of Innocence in an attack over the Christmas holidays, which is what Mr. Lowell refers to at the funeral.


	15. Secrets

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**9 January**

"Welcome to the adult world, Severus," Wilkes said with a wide leer, throwing his arms around the younger Death Eater's shoulder. "This place, right here, is the closest thing we'll ever get to Heaven."

Not amused by their current location, Severus changed the subject. "Do you know why the Dark Lord decided to pull Regulus Black out of school?" He asked. "I've been asking around, but no one seems to know what sort of secret assignment our Lord has him on."

"That's why it's called secret," Avery said dryly and Severus shot him a glare as Wilkes laughed.

"And who is the newest recruit?" Severus asked next. "I know it's someone in Dumbledore's Order of Chickens but no one seems to know anything else. Why the need for all the secrecy?"

Avery and Rosier exchanged looks. "We're not here to talk business," Rosier finally said, with a tone that clearly stated the matter was closed. "We're here to have fun."

Severus stared up at the blinking neon sign above their heads in utter revulsion. _"This _is your idea of fun?" He asked dubiously.

Behind them, Rosier and Avery burst out laughing. "If you don't think nudity and sex are fun, you've been doing it wrong, Sevvie-boy," Avery teased, walking past Snape and Wilkes and entered the strip-club ahead of them, arm in arm with Rosier.

"It's disgusting, is what it is," Snape stated, following them inside. "Humans, putting themselves on display like this…have they no shame?" He scrunched his nose up at the pole-dancers currently on stage.

"Probably not," Rosier said, wiggling his eyebrows at the greasy-haired Slytherin. "But who cares? It means more fun for us." He and Avery headed off to a dark corner, probably to have some…excitement of their own.

Severus grimaced, wishing he would have held his ground and said no to this outing. If he had his choice, his birthday would have been spent in his potions-lab, brewing, and have it end with a good book and a glass of Odgen's finest. Not a visit to this…show of barbarity.

"Oh, stop pouting," Wilkes laughed, patting his cheek. "If you're nice, we might even buy you a hooker later," he added, settling down in an empty seat and waving with a muggle banknote to get some one-on-one attention from the showgirls. Severus stood stiffly beside his chair, hands in his pockets, feeling extremely awkward.

Wilkes rolled his eyes, dragging Severus down in the seat beside his. "Relax, Sev. Enjoy the show. This right here," he pointed at the stage and the scantily clad girls, "is first class entertainment."

Severus snorted, wiggling in his seat to try and make himself more comfortable and failing. "Your idea of entertainment is not the same as mine, Wilkes," he said stiffly.

"Well, you need to broaden your horizons, my friend," Wilkes said airily, giving the girl who was approaching him an appreciative look. "Here." He held out a few pounds for Severus to take. "Use them well," he prompted suggestively. "I hear Bonbon – she's the girl in pink – is supposed to be a real pro."

Severus gave the money a distasteful look. "No thanks."

Wilkes shrugged, leaning back further in his seat to better enjoy the generous cleavage of the stripper who had arrived and was wiggling her hips in front of him. "Your loss."

Severus sighed and wished for nothing more than his birthday to end. He stood up. "I'm heading for the bar."

Wilkes wasn't listening, too absorbed in the girl giving him a lap-dance to notice his leaving.

* * *

"Can I tempt you with a private show?" A deep, sultry voice asked. "I'll even let you touch me…" Severus turned around, ready with a sharp reply, but his response got stuck in his throat as he set eyes upon the person whom the voice had belonged to.

Red, slightly curly hair, and eyes that looked almost green in the club's artificial light. If he narrowed his eyes and didn't pay attention to detail (such as the fact her hair-colour clearly came from a bottle) he could almost, almost, fool himself into believing this was someone else, and not some stripper. "What's your name?"

"Daisy," the showgirl said, placing a hand on Severus' robe covered chest. Severus' nostrils flared.

"Tonight, your name is Lily," he heard himself say. "And don't forget it."

The stripper smiled widely. "Lily it is, then. What's yours?"

"Severus," Severus said, and the smile widened even further.

"Well, Severus, what do you say we find a place a little more…private," Daisy – no, _Lily_ – suggested, cocking her head to the side.

"Lead the way," Severus said hoarsely, swallowing the last of the foul muggle drink, knowing he'd regret this in the morning, but for now, he wanted to indulge himself into the fantasy of what could never be. For just tonight, he wanted to pretend that Lily was here with him, and not sharing a life with James 'I'm better than you' Potter.

* * *

**11 January**

The bell above the door jingled invitingly and without looking up from the box he was packing, Peter yelled out: "We're closed, can't you see the sign?"

"Hello, Peter," Remus said and Peter's head jerked up in surprise.

"Remus, hi! Sorry. It's just I've been visited by so many customers that keep ignoring the sign that says we're shutting down." As he greeted his friend, Peter did his best to ignore the urge to scratch his left-arm. Even now, days after he'd accepted the mark, it still itched, and he could almost swear he could sense the Dark Lord's moods, depending on how much it hurt. It was really disconcerting.

"Why are you closing the store?" Remus asked, looking around the shop curiously, staring at the boxes, some already overflowing with records, and some waiting to be filled.

Peter shrugged. "It…reminds me too much of Sam," he said. "And the shop was more hers than mine anyway. I never really connected with it, and I have no idea how to run it on my own."

"I could help," Remus offered. "I need a job."

Peter smiled weakly, cursing Remus' consideration: He wanted nothing more to do with this stupid shop – he wanted a clean break from everything reminding him about Samantha. "Thanks, but no thanks. Even if I had someone to help me, I can't keep working here. It's too painful."

Remus cocked his head. "Do you mind if I take a look at the paperwork?" He asked, thinking it would be a shame to just give up on something Samantha had been working for during such a long time.

"Go ahead," Peter said, not really caring.

"Sam was making a profit," Remus noted after looking the papers over. "Not much, but a little, and the numbers seems to have been going up…"

"So?" Peter asked.

"So…closing the store would be a mistake," Remus argued. "You could sell it, or at least sign it over to someone. Samantha really cared about this place and to just close it down seems wrong somehow."

"Are you interested?" Peter asked, stopping in his packing and Remus gave him a startled look.

"What?"

"Do you want the store?" Peter asked. "I don't, but…you're right – closing it is not right, and I don't want to sell it, or leave it to a stranger." Truth was, he couldn't care less, but Remus did need a job, and wouldn't it seem suspicious if he just shut down the place Sam had loved so much? Besides, this would put him in Remus' good book, he figured, and who knows when that could come in handy? "I'd be happy to sign it over to you."

Remus looked torn. "I don't know…"

"You do need a job," Peter said gently. "And it is not a pity-offer either, if that's what you think."

"You're sure?" Remus breathed out. Peter nodded. "Alright then," Remus stated, pushing the last uncertainty away. "Let's do it."

* * *

"Here, Sirius," Lily patted his shoulder, placing a cup of tea in front of the morose-looking Marauder. "Still no word from your brother, then, huh?" the red-head added sympathetically after a short pause.

Sirius snorted. "I'd feel better if at least he would send a letter, or something. But not even our parents know where Reg is. And they're scared, Lily. If they're scared…whatever Reg has gotten himself involved with regarding Voldemort…it's bad."

"Regulus is clever," James said, entering the room and placing a kiss on Lily's head. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"He might be clever, but he can also be an idiot," Sirius stated. "Or he wouldn't be in this mess. Thanks for shutting up about him being a Death Eater, by the way," he added, giving his best friend and his wife a grateful look.

"Hey, if you say he wants out, I believe you," James said. "As much as I trust Frank, Alice and Moody, if we get the Order involved, there's no telling what they will think is best. They might want him to turn himself in to the Ministry. And with the things Bartemius Crouch is pushing for in the Auror Department lately, that's not a good idea."

"That point is moot anyway, since he's missing," Sirius said morosely. "Not much of anyone to turn in since I don't know where Reg is."

"Try not to worry about it too much," Lily said. "If Regulus wants to be found, he will be."

Sirius took a deep breath. "Yeah. I just hate being in the dark." He was so confused about a lot of things lately. Reg missing, doing Merlin knows what, Remus – could he be trusted or not? Mandy – they might be back together, but they had a long road ahead of them until they were even close to where they were before they broke up. And speaking of Mandy…

"I heard from Mandy you were back together?" Lily said. "She seemed happy about it?"

Sirius nodded. "We're taking it slow, though. Rebuilding the trust in each other…"

"Probably a good idea," James nodded.

"Don't waste this second chance, Sirius," Lily warned. "You probably won't get another. You really hurt her last time."

"I know. And I've learnt my lesson, trust me," Sirius said grimly. "I'm not going to screw it up this time. I love her."

"Sometimes, the ones we love are those we hurt the most," James said slowly, thinking of Samantha's suicide. The Marauders were still reeling in shock from that, still not completely able to understand why she'd done it. By dying, she'd really hurt them all, and they all wished she would have come to them and talked about what was troubling her. Perhaps then they could have helped…prevented it, somehow.

"I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," Sirius swore. "Mandy deserves the best."

* * *

**15 January**

The door bell jingled above the shop – it was the first day _Mystical Records_ was open since Peter signed it over to Remus, and the werewolf looked up from his paperwork excitedly to greet the customers, but the response died in his throat when he saw who it was.

Greyback.

And he wasn't alone – Wilkes and Gibbon were with him.

"Well, you've moved up a bit from your dishwashing gig," Wilkes mused, looking around the store with distaste. "Still…muggle music, Lupin, really?"

"What do you want?" Remus asked through gritted teeth, gripping his wand tightly, a sense of dread in his chest. Of course Greyback wouldn't let him go unpunished – he must have realised Remus had been the one responsible for Jasper leaving, especially since they'd both left at the same time.

Greyback snarled angrily and Remus gulped, trying to still his pounding heart. The wolf in him was whining loudly, trying to make him back away as the Alpha came closer. "What do you think we want?" The werewolf said ominously, his eyes glinting.

Forcing up an image of himself, Buffy and Jasper during the Christmas holidays, home safely at the cottage, Remus managed to relax his muscles somewhat, even though Moony was going wild with terror, trying to break through the cage that kept him from taking over unless it was a full moon.

Remus took a deep breath. "Jasper wanted to leave. It was safer to help him than have him run off alone."

Fenrir let out a loud roar of rage, leaning forward, spit and saliva landing on Remus' face. "You had no right," the feral growled. "I have raised him since the moment he was turned! Groomed him to be my successor; my beta!_"_ Pacing around Remus' angrily, like a hunter stalking its prey – and Remus felt a lot like one at the moment – the werewolf began to rant: "I had his sister killed so he would come to me for guidance. _ME! _But you ruined it all! He was _mine! _And you took him away!"

"He was not yours," Remus said defiantly.

Greyback came to an abrupt stop in front of Remus, spinning around wildly. Before Remus had time to react, the lycan's hand had struck out, ripping his skin open, leaving three bloody claw marks across his face, the streaks running from the top of his left cheek to the right side of his jaw.

"You dare!" Greyback roared as Remus flinched back, a scream of pain escaping his throat – it felt as though his face was on fire. The Alpha grasped Remus by the throat, and ignoring the blood dripping down to cover his hand, he hissed: "Let that be a lesson for you. A reminder not to cross me. Your father did, and see what became of him." He threw Remus into a nearby shelf, records crashing to the floor.

"Fenrir," Gibbon said, a warning tone in his voice. "Don't get too excited, now. The Dark Lord wants him alive."

"I don't care!" Greyback snarled, stalking forward to Remus, who had slowly gotten to his feet. "I want him dead!" He froze as he felt the tips of two wands at the back of his neck.

"The Dark Lord does not care what you want, Greyback," Wilkes spat, his wand shooting sparks across the werewolf's neck, making him flinch. "But you better remember what _he_ wants. You were under strict orders not to kill him, and if you value your own life, you won't even try."

"And don't even _think _about it," Gibbon said coldly, glaring at Remus who was reaching for his own wand, which he'd dropped when he'd been thrown.

Remus swallowed, ignoring the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. "Why doesn't Voldemort want me killed?" He asked, abandoning his attempt to get to his wand.

"For many reasons," Gibbon answered, him and Wilkes lowering the wands pointed at Greyback, trusting him to behave himself. "One is that he would like you on his side. I'm certain you recall our offer. Have you considered it?"

"You can't be serious?" Greyback snarled. "He's never been loyal to the Dark Lord, and he never will be! His stunt in my pack should have made that obvious, if nothing else! Why are you even trying? It's pointless, is what it is! Just let me kill him!"

"You forget your place, Fenrir," Wilkes said coldly, exchanging looks with Gibbon. "And joining you and joining the Dark Lord are two very different things. You're just a henchman...and far from irreplaceable. And if your existence in his ranks is the only thing holding Lupin back from joining us," he smiled at the marauder silkily even as Greyback's fists clenched and his eyes flashed in fury, "I'm sure we could come to some sort of agreement."

"For once, Greyback is right," Remus spat, eyes narrowing. "I'm never going to join you."

"Never?" Gibbon asked. "So sure about that, are you?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Remus spat.

The two Death Eaters ignored him. "It's a shame," Wilkes said. "You're on a losing side, Lupin. But with us, you could gain so much. How is your girlfriend, by the way?" He added all-too-pleasantly after a short pause and Remus tensed.

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it would be a shame if she has had…an accident?" Gibbon said, smiling and confused, Remus glared at them.

"She's just fine, thank you," he said, and the two Death Eaters' looks faltered somewhat.

"She…is?" Wilkes asked dumbly and Gibbon elbowed him angrily. Greyback burst out in loud laughter, delighting in their confusion after the humiliation they had put him through by pointing their wands at him and throwing threats around. How dare they? He could rip their throats out before they had the chance to shout a single spell!

"Why wouldn't she be?" Remus asked warily. Had they tried to do something to Buffy? If that was the case, why hadn't she told him?

"Just…making conversation," Gibbon said quickly, glaring at Greyback warningly as the werewolf continued to snigger. "Anyway, you really should consider our Lord's offer. Soon, it won't be as generous." He and Wilkes left the store, leaving Remus standing there, worried and upset, still bleeding.

* * *

Hearing the door slam, Jasper jumped up from the colouring book he was painting in (a Christmas gift from Buffy and Remus) and rushed towards the hall, expecting to see Buffy home from work. Instead, he came face to face with a bloodied looking Remus and he gasped.

"It's alright, Jasper," Remus said hoarsely, blood dripping from his face down onto the floor. "It's just a scrape." Slowly, he moved into the house, walking towards the bathroom, Jasper following, eyes wide.

"Fenrir did that to you, didn't he?" The boy asked quietly.

Remus grabbed a clean towel from the bathroom closet and soaked it in hot running water, then put it against his bleeding face, hissing at the sting. "Yes," he answered, forcing himself to smile at Jasper. "I'm going to be fine, though."

Jasper bit his lip. "He could have killed you."

"I'm stronger than I look," Remus tried to joke, but Jasper only crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow, and Remus chuckled.

"You look a lot like Buffy right now," he said, pulling away the now blood-soaked towel from his face with a slight wince. "I'm going to take a shower. Do you like the colouring book?"

Jasper nodded. "Yes. Thanks. I've never had that before."

"Well, you should colour in it some more, then. Don't worry about me," Remus assured him when he saw the young werewolf's hesitant look. "I'll be out when I'm done."

"Okay…" Jasper muttered and left the bathroom, doubtful, but not daring to disobey. Remus and his girlfriend, Buffy, had been so kind to him, but who knew what they'd do if they got angry with him – Fenrir always became very violent when he was mad, and Jasper didn't want to take the risk they'd throw him out, or worse.

Once Jasper left, Remus dropped the towel to the floor and began rummaging around the cabinet about the sink for some healing salve, hoping to take care of most of the damage before Buffy got home: But with his luck, of course it was all used up. "She's going to kill me when she sees this," Remus told the bathroom mirror, staring at the claw shaped wounds on his face - which all refused to stop bleeding – in defeat.

"I highly doubt that, dear," the mirror said sleepily. "But you really should put some salve on those."

Remus rolled his eyes.

* * *

Buffy entered the cottage, happy to be home after a long day at work, only to freeze when she saw the blood splatters on the floor. Her heart thumping wildly, she rushed into the living room, panicked. "Remus? Jasper?"

Jasper looked up from his colouring book. "Hi, Buffy," he said.

"Where's Remus?" Buffy asked. "Whose blood is this?"

"He's in the bathroom, and it's his," Jasper told her. "He said he'd be fine," he added, worried Buffy was mad at him.

"Of course he did," Buffy muttered angrily to herself, stalking towards the bathroom, slamming the door open. "Remus!"

"Shit!" Remus jumped a foot when he saw Buffy in the door-opening, dropping the shower head he was holding as he waited for the water to heat up. "Don't scare me like that," he hissed.

"What happened?" Buffy demanded to know, turning off the shower and forcing Remus' down on the toilet lid, grabbing two towels from inside the closet. "Fenrir did this, didn't he?"

"Yes," Remus said through gritted teeth. "He came to the store today."

"He could have killed you," Buffy said, repeating Jasper's words from earlier.

"But he didn't," Remus said, trying to remain calm in face of Buffy's – understandable – distress. "I'm fine."

"Dumb luck," Buffy stated. "Accio whiskey!" A bottle came zooming into the bathroom, and grabbing it from the air, Buffy opened it and drenched one of the towels in the alcoholic beverage, then pressed it against Remus' face.

"OWW!" Remus yelled. "And why waste perfectly good whiskey?"

"Because we're out of salves, as I'm sure you know," Buffy said, looking up at the cabinet, which looked as though someone had been rummaging through it in desperation, meaningfully. "And until I get some, this will have to do. Wounds caused by a werewolf, especially a feral one, are notoriously hard to heal. You, if anyone, should know this. Luckily for you…I don't think the scars will be as pronounced as they could have been had you not been one yourself as well."

"I'll scar?" Remus muttered. "Great." He wasn't a particularly vain, but having scars on his face would make him looklike something savage, someone to be feared – scars on other places, he could cover up, but his face?

"Like that matters in comparison to your life," Buffy said grimly. She was incredibly shaken by what had happened – and what could have happened. They should have realised something like this would happen. Of course Greyback wouldn't have let Remus go unpunished. They should have been more careful...warded the store, or put Order guards in it, or something. "Don't you dare scare me like that again, understand?" Remus looked up at her, and noticed for the first time her lips were trembling, as were her voice, and in the back of his head, there was fear - Buffy's fear. "God...when I came home...and saw the blood..."

"I'm sorry," Remus said quietly, dismissing why he'd been able to sense Buffy's emotions just now, his thoughts occupied with regret for scaring her.

Buffy sighed, all her anger disappearing. "It's not your fault," she mumbled, blinking away her tears, sensing his regret. Without lingering on the thought of how she could do that, she stood up from her kneeling position "I'm heading out to get some salves and potions. Don't you dare pull that towel away from your face until I return, got that?"

"Buffy wait," Remus grabbed her wrist. "There's something else. Greyback didn't come alone. He had company. Two Death Eaters...and they said something - something about you."

Buffy looked confused. "About me?"

"Yes." He gave her a searching look. "Are you alright?"

"Well…of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" Buffy blinked. Remus was the one wounded – not her.

"See, that's what I asked the Death Eaters," Remus said with a raised eyebrow. "They were insinuating you were less than okay for some reason, and seemed quite surprised when I told them you were fine. Why would they ask me that?"

Buffy's mouth formed a perfectly shaped 'o' as a realisation hit her. "It's not a big deal," she finally said uncomfortably. "A few vampires attacked me during the holidays; I took care of it, told the Order, and they thought it was just because Voldemort's targeting Order members and he thinks I'm the weakest link or something." She shrugged.

"Not a big deal?" Remus asked snappishly. "You were attacked, and you don't think it's a big deal? Or that I should even know about it?"

"You weren't here!" Buffy said. "You were at Greyback's, and like I said, I took care of it. I didn't think I needed to worry you. But now I'm pretty sure our theory was wrong…they didn't attack me because I'm an Order member…they attacked me because of my connection to you. So…tell me. What did the Death Eaters want with you? I understand why Greyback was there – but what about the two Death Eaters? I doubt they were there for backup." It was Buffy's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"They were trying to recruit me," Remus admitted.

Buffy's eyes narrowed in utter bewilderment. "But that makes no sense!" She exclaimed. "I mean, by betraying Greyback, you must have made your position pretty clear. Why would they even try?"

"Greyback asked the same thing," Remus said. "So for whatever reason, he didn't know about it."

"Something strange is going on here," Buffy muttered, pacing around the bathroom. "Something beyond the obvious..." She threw her hands up. "God! This is annoying! I hate not being able to make sense of things!"

"Likewise," Remus muttered.

Buffy sighed, pinching her nose tiredly. "Okay. Okay...so...let's leave the why for a moment and go back to the what. The Death Eaters want you to join Voldemort, for some, strange, secret reason we can't figure out right now. But they want you on his side. So maybe they attacked me because they hoped if I was hurt, or killed, it would make you more susceptible to their offer?"

"That makes sense," Remus nodded.

"But…attacking me before they even ask you doesn't," Buffy mused with narrowed eyes. "If they've already asked you once before, however…" Remus looked slightly uncomfortable. "They did, didn't they?" Buffy said, even as a feeling of guilt rose in the back of her head. "Who's keeping secrets from whom, here, really, Remus?"

"I was going to tell you," Remus tried. "But it was almost time for me to leave on the mission to Greyback and I figured you had enough on your mind – "

"You should have told me," Buffy said, disappointed.

Remus hung his head. "I suppose both of us should try to be more honest with each other, huh?"

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "Well…as soon as we've fixed you up, we should talk to Dumbledore, tell him our theory about why the vampires attacked me specifically was wrong, and let him know about the suspicion that something more is going on...let him know about the recruitments – I imagine you've been keeping it to yourself?"

Remus smiled guiltily, and Buffy rolled her eyes. "Figures. Anyway, after I get you the salves and potions I need for your face, we'll go to Hogwarts."

"No, I'll go," Remus said. "You'll stay here with Jasper." As he saw Buffy opened her mouth to protest, he continued: "You don't know all the details about today, so it makes more sense that I go. He already knows about the attack on you, though."

Buffy sighed, seeing the sense in it. Though Jasper would probably be fine on his own, he shouldn't have to be – not if it wasn't necessary. "Fine. But don't you dare keep anything from him, though," Buffy warned and Remus chuckled.

"Keep anything from Dumbledore? You're joking right? Impossible."

* * *

"Hmm…this is worrying," Dumbledore said, fingering his long beard as he looked at Remus over his half-moon glasses. "You should have told me earlier."

Remus winced. "I know. I just…I didn't want to admit it, I guess. To myself, or anyone. Why would Voldemort try to recruit me, of all people? Does he think I'll be easy to sway? Or is it because I'm a werewolf?"

"It is sometimes difficult to know what Tom is thinking," Dumbledore said. "But as to why he would want you in his ranks, it is not hard to figure out. You are a powerful wizard, Remus. Loyal, determined, and yes, a werewolf. It does not surprise me at all that he wants you, nor would I be surprised if he begins to try and recruit others from the Order."

"Do you think we should be worried about a possible spy, sir?" Remus asked, and Dumbledore sighed, sucking on a lemon-drop.

"As much as I hate to believe it…yes, it may be time to begin to worry about the overall loyalty of the Order. But leave that to me."

"Yes, sir," Remus agreed. "What should I do about the Death Eaters trying to recruit me?"

"I have a suggestion," Dumbledore said. "But I fear you will not like it."

"Let me decide that," Remus said.

"Very well. I want you to play along," Dumbledore said, and Remus' eyes widened: The Headmaster was right – he did not like this suggestion – at all.

"As you and Buffy have already realised, it makes no sense for Voldemort to want you in his ranks when it has been made clear you won't ever join him willingly. We need to find out why he persists in trying – like you said, something more is going on here. We need more information of Voldemort's movements," Dumbledore said. "A spy." He sent Remus a grave look. "Are you agreeable to this mission, Remus? It will be dangerous – perhaps even a lot more than your mission to Greyback."

Remus took a deep breath. "I'll do it," he said. He would not fail again. "But don't tell Buffy, please," he added after a short pause of hesitation. "She would only worry."

Dumbledore nodded, pleased. "I am glad you agree. But as for not telling your girlfriend…of course, it is your choice, and personally, I feel the fewer who knows about your new assignment, the better… But keeping secrets from those closest to you rarely end well."

Remus felt very guilty, especially since he and Buffy had just talked about being more honest with each other. But it was safer for her if she did not know this.

"Now, from what you've told me about the visit you got today, it is clear they had no idea the assassination attempt on Buffy had failed," Dumbledore continued, and Remus pushed away his guilty thoughts. "As such, it stands to reason Voldemort did not know of it either. But he will now."

"Do you think he will try again?" Remus asked, worried.

"Oh, most definitely," Dumbledore said. "That is not what worries me, however. Tom will certainly begin to wonder why four skilled vampires did not manage to kill a single girl – I have a strong feeling Buffy's days of anonymity is over. It is now only a matter of time before Voldemort comes to realise Buffy is the Slayer. Then, he will not lay idle. He will want her on his side. And if she does not agree, I fear he will not stop until she is dead."

Remus swallowed.

* * *

**19 January**

"Happy nineteenth birthday, Buffy!" Lily greeted, hugging the blonde close. "You look great!"

"Thanks," Buffy said, smiling brilliantly at her and James. "Come on in!"

James glanced over at Remus who was sitting on the floor beside Jasper, laughing as the young boy kept tickling Sirius in his dog-form. "His face looks a lot better," he noted. The last time he'd seen Remus had been at an Order meeting on the fifteenth, and everyone had been quite horrified, but had done their best not to show it. He didn't think they'd succeeded if Remus' stony expression had been anything to go by.

"Yeah," Buffy sighed. "The scars finally began to recede somewhat three days ago – Madame Pomfrey gave me this ointment that she swore by: It's green, and it smells foul, but at least it seems to be helping. The worst part was actually stopping the bleeding right after he got the wounds. I think it would be a lot worse if he wasn't a werewolf himself. The only reason he's scarred at all is because they're a present from Greyback who's more wolf than man even when it's not a full moon."

"Well, at least he's not shallow," Lily said, looking startled as Buffy snorted.

"Yeah, right. I didn't think he was either, but guess where I found him two hours ago, just minutes before the guests began to arrive?"

Lily gave her a prompting look.

"My make-up bag," Buffy revealed and Lily gasped as James chuckled.

"Really? Oh, I'm going to have so much fun teasing him…"

"Please, don't," Buffy begged. "He's really sensitive about his face right now. I didn't realise, so I became really exasperated when I saw him…but…he thinks the scars make him _look_ like the monster he thinks he is. It took several minutes to assure him he did not need make-up to cover up the scars and that he looked fine. Two minutes later, I found him with a glamour on his face, which I only just managed to get him to remove. And I have a feeling that's a battle I haven't won yet – he only let me have my way because Sirius arrived."

"Oh," James winced. "Yeah, okay, I won't say anything." He knew very well how sensitive Remus was about his lycanthropy, so of course he'd be upset by having a scarred face.

"Thanks," Buffy said gratefully.

"Have you managed to find a home for Jasper yet?" Lily asked, changing the subject.

Buffy sighed. "No. There aren't that many people out there who are open-minded enough to want to take a werewolf in. And Remus and I want him to feel comfortable with whomever he ends up with...become a real family, you know?"

"I'm sure you'll find someone," James comforted.

"I hope so," Buffy said. "Remus and I would keep him, but we're always tight on money, as you well know. And speaking of Remus...he wants something. Better go see what." She left Lily and James and walked over towards Remus.

"How did she know that?" Lily whispered to James who shook his head in amazement.

"I have no idea…"

"Creepy…" Lily muttered. "I thought we were the married couple – aren't we the ones who should know what the other's thinking?"

James shrugged. "Maybe it's a Slayer thing?"

"Maybe…" Lily looked doubtful.

* * *

**26 January**

"Thank you so much, Mr. Lowell, you don't know how happy and relieved this makes me," Remus told Samantha's father.

From the other side of the floo-connection, Mr. Lowell gave him a tired nod. "Think nothing of it. I'm more than happy to take the young man in. It feels good to be able to help someone in more or less the same situation we are in. I hope Jasper will be able to connect with Will – he hasn't been the same since his mother, Melanie and Sam died." A pained look crossed his face.

"And Buffy and I are incredibly grateful," Remus said. "I know Jasper is going to have a good home with you."

"I'm looking forward to meeting him," Mr. Lowell said, getting ready to close down the floo connection. "William and I will come and get him in a couple of days."

"We'll see you then," Remus said, removing his head from the fire.

"I'll miss him," Buffy told Remus once her boyfriend closed the floo. Mr. Lowell had agreed to take Jasper in, wanting to help the younger werewolf once he heard what he'd gone through at the werewolf-camp. As he had put it, he wanted to do something good, wanted to give Jasper a family, a place he could call home, since Mr. Lowell now knew what it was like to lose part of his own.

"Me too," Remus said. "But we knew Jasper staying here was only going to be temporary, until we found another place for him. And we know Sam's father is a good man. He'll be happy with them, I'm sure."

"Yeah. Now we just need to find a way to tell him," Buffy said.

"You want to get rid of me!" The ten year old accused, eyes narrowed in anger.

Remus sighed. "That's not it at all, Jasper."

"Then why can't I stay here with you?" Jasper demanded to know, not at all happy with the fact he was going to stay with another family, one he hadn't even met. "I like it here! Don't you like me?" Despite the anger on his face, it was clear the boy was doing his best to hold back his tears.

"We do," Buffy said. "And having you here has been great. But we can't take care of you. We don't exactly have the safest lifestyle, and we don't have enough money, either, even with Remus now owning the record-store."

"I haven't been any trouble, have I?" Jasper asked desperately. "If I have, I'll do better, I promise! I'll be so quiet, you won't even know I'm here, I swear! And I don't eat much!"

Buffy and Remus exchanged distressed looks. This conversation wasn't going near as well as they'd hoped. "Look, Jasper," Buffy said, "it's not that we don't want you. We do. But if you stay here, you'll be in danger. Remus and I are involved heavily in the war."

"I don't care!" Jasper said stubbornly. "I know what danger is like!"

"Not this kind, you don't," Remus said. "We just want to protect you. Give you a real home, a real family, where you can be safe. Buffy and I can't do that."

Jasper wiped away angry tears. Remus leaned down to give him a hug, but the ten year old brushed him off. "You're just making up excuses to be rid of me," he muttered, and ran out of the room. Remus sighed.

"Well…that went well," Buffy said all too brightly, trying to keep her optimism. Remus shot her a look. "He just needs time to come to terms with it," the Slayer said, trying to convince herself as much as Remus.

* * *

**28 January**

"Jasper," Remus knocked on Jasper's bedroom – his old one – door. "Mr. Lowell and his son have arrived and they want to meet you." Jasper lay curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to his chest, staring out the window.

"I don't want to meet them," Jasper said stubbornly. "Go away."

Remus sighed. "Alright. But I'm sending Will up to you while Buffy and I talk to Mr. Lowell, okay?"

"Whatever," Jasper scoffed. "It's not like you care about what I want."

Remus left the room, feeling extremely guilty. Entering the living room, where Mr. Lowell and Buffy were chatting, Will sitting beside his father, looking bored. "Hey, Buffy, can I have a word?"

"Yeah, sure. Excuse me," she told Mr. Lowell and followed Remus out of the room. "What's going on? Isn't Jasper coming down?"

"He's…really unhappy about this, Buffy," Remus said, biting his lip. "Maybe we are wrong to send him away… He doesn't want this. We can make it work, can't we? I mean, money will be tight, but now when I own the store, maybe we can afford it?"

"You're forgetting something – Jasper isn't ours," Buffy reminded him gently. "Ministry laws won't allow it, even if he's a werewolf too."

Remus' shoulders slumped. "Darn it…"

"He will be happy with the Lowells," Buffy said. "I know that. You know that. We just didn't give Jasper enough time to get used to the idea."

"Yeah…"

They re-entered the living room, only finding Mr. Lowell there this time. "Where is Will?"

"Oh, I sent him to Jasper's room," Mr. Lowell said. "So they could get to know each other. Was that wrong of me?"

"No!" Buffy said hurriedly. "No, not at all…Just…we're having some problems…with Jasper," she admitted. "He…hasn't gotten used to the idea of living with you yet, and maybe we should move this meeting to sometime next week instead? Give him a little space."

"Oh, yes. Yes, of course," Mr. Lowell said, standing up. "I completely understand. It…it must be difficult for him."

All three of them walked back to Jasper's room, but peeking inside, they saw the two boys laughing and talking animatedly, playing with some of Remus' old toys. Remus slowly shut the door. "Maybe we won't have to reschedule, after all," he said, raising an eyebrow and smiling at Mr. Lowell.

Two hours later, the two boys finally entered the living room. "Remus, Buffy? Can I talk to you?" Jasper looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Of course," Remus told him, as Will went back to sit by his father, whispering something in his ear that made Mr. Lowell smile. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry for being so mad at you," Jasper said weakly.

"Oh, that's okay, sweetie," Buffy said. "We understand. We shouldn't have pushed this on you so quickly…if you're not ready…if you want to stay here for a few more days, that's fine."

"No, it's okay," Jasper shook his head. "I-I really like Will," he admitted shyly. "He's really fun."

"I'm glad," Remus told him, hugging him.

"He said I'd be his brother," Jasper said quietly. He looked down. "If…if I go with them…can I still see you?" Looking up, there were tears in his eyes, and Remus felt a little bit like crying himself.

"Of course you can," Buffy said, and it was her turn to give Jasper a hug.

"I think I'll be happy with them," Jasper said, then he paused. "They're good people, right?" He sounded hesitant. "Not like Fenrir? If…if they get mad at me for being bad, they won't be like him, right?"

"Oh, no, nothing like him," Remus assured him, touching his face. "They're really nice people."

"Like you?"

Remus laughed weakly. "If you think I'm nice, then sure, like me."

Jasper nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?" Buffy questioned.

"I think I want to go with them," Jasper stated.

"Okay," Remus said. "Right now?" Jasper nodded. "Alright. I'll help you pack your stuff."

"I'll miss you," Jasper said as Remus packed the things Remus and Buffy had gotten him in a small trunk. "And thanks. For helping me leave Fenrir."

Remus smiled at him. "You're welcome. And I'll miss you too."

The younger werewolf practically threw himself in Remus' arms. "I just wish…I wish Rosie could be here with me," he whispered. "I think she'd like Will too…and she always wanted a real family."

"Well, you'll just have to take care of the one you just got for both of you, okay?" Remus said with a teary grin. "I think she'd really like that."

Jasper nodded, burying his face in Remus' shirt. "I will."

"Are you coming soon?" Will stuck in his head, a lot more excited than when he first came, looking rather animated: It seemed Mr. Lowell had been right in thinking the two boys would connect with each other. "I want to get home so I can show Jasper his new room! It's right next to mine, and there's a door in the wall so we can sneak into each other's rooms at night and everything."

Jasper smiled brilliantly at him.

* * *

_**Published: **__22/09 -10  
__**Edited: **__24/06 -12_


	16. Motives

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**30 January**

It was Lily's birthday and she and Buffy were sitting in the living room of Godric's Hollow, while Remus, Sirius, James and Peter were outside fawning over Sirius' bike: apparently, Sirius had installed some more 'modifications' on top of the flying – such as invisibility, a booster seat and Merlin knows what else.

"So I noticed something at your birthday party," Lily began and Buffy gave her a prompting look.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. It seems as if you and Remus have started to communicate without words," Lily said, raising an inquiring eyebrow at her best friend.

Buffy began to laugh. "Communicate without…? That's ridiculous!" Her laugh faltered when Lily didn't join in.

"Is it?" The red-head asked. "You seemed to know when he needed you several times during the night. James noticed it too."

"Well, that's bizarre!" Buffy scoffed. "Why would we be able to do that? Neither of us is telepathic or anything!"

"I'm just telling you what I saw," Lily said calmly, sipping on her butterbeer. "You just seemed very in tune with each other, that's all."

Buffy frowned. "You're wrong," she said decisively, though inwardly she began to wonder. It was true she had been more perceptive to Remus' moods the past few weeks, and he had been the same way, seemingly knowing what she was feeling with just a glance; sometimes even less.

And then there were those strange feelings she'd been having in the back of her head…feelings not her own – was she sensing Remus' emotions? It made sense – weren't she and Remus soulmates? This could be a sign of their deepening bond, or something. But it could also be an indication of them growing closer after Remus' return from Greyback's camp, and her own newly found self-assurance after getting over the dark thoughts that had troubled her since the attack on Plymouth. Maybe it was nothing to worry about. Still, it was rather disturbing, and she vowed she would try and speak with Remus about it as soon as possible. She sighed. They never seemed to be able to catch a break.

* * *

**1 February**

"Rise," Voldemort demanded, red eyes blazing at the two Death Eaters kneeling at his feet. "What do you have to report?" He hissed out.

"Our second meeting with Lupin was just as unsuccessful as our first, my Lord," Wilkes said, keeping his head bowed. "He has no intentions of joining your ranks, and has acquired a better job since last time. It seems Pettigrew has given him the muggle music store."

"Indeed," the Dark Lord said coldly. "I will have to talk to him about that. As for you two, you realize your failure cannot go unpunished?"

Gibbon gulped, shoulders tensing. "Yes, my Lord. We…accept our punishment, and we are deeply sorry."

"CRUCIO!" The Dark Lord hissed out, his wand snapping forward, aimed at the two men, who fell sideways onto the floor in front of Voldemort's throne, twitching and screaming in agony. After several seconds, he broke the curse, staring down at his two subjects with cold eyes. "You will not fail again. Keep trying," he stated. "And contact our followers within the Ministry and make sure Lupin cannot hold on to his new occupation."

"Yes, my Lord," Wilkes mumbled. "But...with all due respect, why are you so eager to have the werewolf join you? He is just one person, after all. Wouldn't our efforts be of better use trying to recruit someone more susceptible to our way of thinking?"

"I have my reasons," the Dark Lord answered. "While Remus Lupin would be a nice addition to my followers, I have no higher hopes for it – not any more. But he still has his uses, and it is because of those that I want you to continue to try and recruit him. He is but a tool – a pawn part of a much larger plan." He smirked.

"I see, my Lord," Wilkes muttered, though truth was, he didn't. But it wasn't his place to question his master's orders, or plans.

"No, you don't," his master said, as if reading his mind, amused. "And that is just as well. How did the werewolf react to his girlfriend's..._unfortunate_ death?" He asked the two Death Eaters who were shakily standing up.

Gibbon swallowed heavily. "About that, my Lord…it seems the assassination attempt on Buffy Summers was a failure."

Voldemort sat up straighter. "What?" He hissed. "She still lives?"

"On Lupin, it seems as if she is fine," Wilkes said.

"How can this be?" The Dark Lord growled. "I sent four vampires after her. Four! She should not have lived!" Spiderlike fingers clutched his throne's armrest in fury. "Send for Snape, immediately," he barked out at Gibbon and Wilkes who hastily stood and hurried out of the throne room, eager to be out of the Dark Lord's anger.

* * *

"My Lord," Snape said, kneeling in front of Voldemort.

"Severus…you are an invaluable follower," Voldemort breathed out. "Your potions - ingenious. Your self-invented spells - perfect in their cruelty."

"Thank you, master," Snape said, bowing his head a little deeper.

"Yes…you have not failed me once…until now. CRUCIO!"

Snape groaned in deep pain as the curse set his nerves on fire. "Your information regarding Buffy Summers was faulty," the Dark Lord snarled as he kept the curse going. "It seems you underestimated her, and in doing so, you made a fool out of me! You assured me she was both unintelligent and weak – and yet, she lives! Explain to me how that could have happened!"

"I'm sorry, my Lord," Snape gasped as Voldemort finally lifted the curse long enough for him to regain the ability to speak. "I truly believed…what I told you."

"Perhaps you should be more vigilant in the future," Voldemort said coldly. "Since this is your first mistake, I will let this go. Now, leave!"

Snape made a hasty bow and walked quickly out of the room, careful not to turn his back to the Dark Lord.

The moment the door closed behind Snape, the Dark Lord sent out a curse from his wand that demolished one of the stone pillars by the back wall. He was angry – angry that he had been made to look like a fool, angry that he hadn't suspected something had gone wrong when the vampires he'd sent after Buffy Summers had not returned – of course, he would never admit that to anyone: The Dark Lord made no mistakes, after all… And he was furious that it seemed he had another enemy in Buffy Summers, and that he knew nothing about her.

It was clear they had underestimated her…but by how much?

* * *

**6 February**

Buffy's eyes narrowed as she stared at her boyfriend in thought. She had felt nervous the past few days – nervous and guilty. But from what Lily had said on her birthday, now Buffy doubted it was her emotions she was experiencing – it was Remus'. It was now clear to her that this was not just a deeper familiarity with each other. Well, it was, but it wasn't due to something they had done – it was due to what they _were._ Soulmates.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" She finally asked, a plan in mind, and Remus jumped in his seat, knocking over his tea-cup in the process.

"Bollocks!" Remus swore, pulling it upright, and jerking the article he'd been working on away – albeit too late – the parchments were already stained. "Great…"

"Sorry," Buffy said sheepishly and Remus sighed.

"No, it's alright." He threw the papers into the bin he'd placed by his feet. "I'll just start over. The article was crap anyway."

"You've seemed jumpy lately," Buffy remarked innocently, pouring him a new cup. "And nervous. And guilty-looking."

"What makes you say that?" Remus asked weakly, not meeting her eyes.

"Oh, just a feeling," the Slayer stated airily, glancing at her boyfriend with a raised eyebrow. She had just given him the perfect opening to come clean, without her moving on to the next step of her plan. Of course, Remus being Remus, he didn't take it.

"I'm just a little stressed out," Remus answered with a sigh. "I never realised how much work there was involved in running a shop."

"Hmm…" Buffy made a non-committal sound. "Anyway, do you want to play a game?" She suggested, now more certain than ever she – or rather, Lily – had been right: they could sense each other's emotions. The only question now was how deeply did it go?

"I'd love to, but I really don't have time," Remus grabbed a fresh parchment to write on. "I want to get this article finished, and I need to finish the paper-work to finalize my taking over the store from Peter, and I have this other thing I'm doing for Dumbledore," the lycan finished evasively.

"What thing?" Buffy asked with narrowed eyes.

"Oh, nothing important," Remus assured her hurriedly, not meeting her eyes.

"Well, then I'm sure you have time to play just a little game with me," Buffy said sweetly, twirling a blonde lock between her finger-tips. "It's called – _guess what I'm thinking."_

"That…your roots are showing?" Remus suggested tiredly, and Buffy frowned, grabbing a larger piece of her hair.

"No…they aren't, are they?" Buffy looked slightly panicked. "Because I hate it when my roots are showing, because that totally blows the stupid blonde image I try to portray to people who don't know me, because they'll see I'm not _really_ blonde – "

"Buffy," Remus said with a raised eyebrow. "You're rambling. And I was just winding you up. Your hair is fine."

"Oh. Pheew," Buffy laughed weakly.

Remus snorted. "I love how you can still surprise me. Panicking over your roots…seriously?"

Buffy pouted. "We all have our vices," she muttered. "Hair – and shoes and sharp, pointy things – are mine."

"I'll keep that in mind," Remus lips were twitching as he put his quill down. "Alright. Let's play your game."

Buffy grinned. "Okay…guess what I'm thinking about right now."

For five whole seconds, Remus stared at her face, trying to figure it out…and then he burst out laughing.

"What?" Buffy snapped.

"I'm sorry," Remus gasped for breath. "You just…looked rather constipated, that's all!"

"I was thinking! Hard!" Buffy protested, flushing.

Remus had tears streaming from his eyes. "Sure..." Finally, he calmed down. "Look, this is stupid. Why won't you just tell me what this is really about? I know there's something you've wanted to talk to me about."

"Aha!" Buffy said triumphantly, pointing at him. "How did you know that?"

Remus looked rather confused. "I don't know…I guess I just did."

"Uh-huh…like…feelings, in the back of your head? Intuitive-like?" Buffy said knowingly, and Remus tensed.

"Yes…how did you know that?"

"Because I've been having them too," Buffy said. "And I think we might be reading each other's minds. Well, not _reading_ them, just…sensing each other's emotions," she corrected herself.

"That's ridiculous," Remus snorted. "Why would we be able to do that?"

"Lily and James have both noticed something's up," Buffy said. "And as to why…I'm guessing we're beginning to see some effects of our bond. The soulmate thing."

Remus frowned, not sure he liked that. Sure, he'd accepted he and Buffy were soulmates long ago, and now, he didn't even think about it anymore. It was just a fact, the end. Nothing they could do about it, and nothing that affected them as people, exactly – until now. If this…empathy thing was manifesting as a result of their bond, was that the only consequence, or would they find more strange things to connect them in the future?

What if it actually developed into full-out mind reading? What if they were suddenly able to see and hear each other's every thought? He swallowed. He definitely didn't want that – while he loved Buffy, he also valued his privacy. While a mind-link would probably help with the honesty and trust thing, having someone able to access his every thought – even if it was Buffy – was not something he wanted. As a werewolf, he'd always counted on having his mind shut off to intruders – natural occlumency shields were one of the things he actually _liked_ about being a werewolf.

"Look, let's not panic, alright?" Buffy said. "Right now, it only seems to be about our emotions, nothing else. So…why don't we experiment with it a bit, and see where it leads us? See if we can control it: Shut it off, turn it on, and so on?"

Remus nodded. "Yeah, sure." The quicker he could shut it off, the better – he did not want Buffy to know about the new mission Dumbledore had given him – she'd hate it. He ignored the nagging voice that told him this was something she deserved to know.

* * *

**10 February**

"Hi guys!" Mandy greeted, waving Sirius, Buffy, Lily, James and Peter, over to her table in the three broomsticks. "I'm so glad you could make it." She stood up and gave Sirius a hug. Things were heading in the right direction in regards to their relationship, both making an honest effort to build up that which had been broken. Of course, it was made harder since Mandy resided at Hogwarts, and Sirius in London, but they were doing their best.

"Oh, no problem," Lily said, smiling. "We've missed you."

"Likewise. Where is Remus, by the way?" Mandy said, sitting down again, taking Sirius' hand.

"I'm not sure," Buffy admitted. "All I know is that he's doing something for Dumbledore."

Mandy's eyes widened. "Why would he be doing that? Is he working for the Headmaster?"

Lily, James and Buffy exchanged looks, all inwardly wincing. It was difficult sometimes, remembering that Mandy wasn't a part of the Order, and as such knew nothing about what was going on with the war. Sirius, on the other hand, was frowning. Remus' mission to Greyback's werewolf pack was over; what else could he possibly be doing for Dumbledore? And why hadn't it been mentioned during the recent Order meetings? Despite himself, Regulus' words were once again repeating in his head and doubts about Remus' loyalty made itself known once more.

"Uh…sort of," Buffy said hurriedly, thinking fast. "Doing research and stuff. Remus is good at research!" She smiled, perhaps a little too brightly, for Mandy gave her a sceptical look.

"Uh-hu."

"To be honest," Lily cut in, "Remus has been having some trouble finding work, and Dumbledore has been helping him, keeping him occupied. Things are getting better for him now, aren't they, James?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah!" James nodded. "Since he's taking over your store and everything, right, Wormtail?"

Peter nodded quickly. "Yep. Nothing secret about Remus at all!"

"And there's nothing strange about Hogwart's Headmaster taking such a great interest in a former student," Mandy stated sarcastically.

"Nope, absolutely not!" Buffy said. "I mean, Dumbles has a soft spot for Re, what with his…furry little problem. He's the first – _you know what _– to ever attend Hogwarts and I don't find it weird that Dumbledore's looking out for him even beyond graduation."

"If you say so," Mandy said, seeing the others nod emphatically in agreement, willing to let matters drop – but she wasn't stupid: she knew her friends were deep in the middle of the war, and whatever Remus was doing had to have something to do with it. "Anyway, I had my career advice with Professor Flitwick a few days ago," she said, changing the subject.

"How did that go?" Sirius asked, refocusing on the conversation going on around him.

"Pretty well," Mandy said. "He was in agreement for my ideas – thought I'd make a great curse-breaker. He was less sure about my journalist plans, since I said I didn't want a desk job, and I agree."

"That's great! What about grades and such?" Lily asked.

"I've got the required grades in the fields necessary – that is Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, so he was pretty positive, unless I completely screw up on my NEWTs. Of course, a problem is that there aren't that many options for apprenticeships other than Gringotts, and the Goblins are very picky when it comes to whom they choose... And if you want to find really good work, both your studies and the occupation forces you to move outside Europe more often than not," she added carefully with a quick glance at Sirius, who had tensed up.

"Move from Europe?" He asked.

"But it's not a problem right now," Mandy hastily added. "I mean, I haven't taken the NEWTs yet, and I haven't decided anything…"

"If you want to become a curse-breaker, you should go for it," Sirius said, squeezing her hand. Mandy's eyes widened, and Sirius smiled sadly.

"I don't want you to stay here and do something you don't want to, or settle for something less, just because of me," he said. "I've been selfish enough. And if curse-breaking is what you want to do, you should do it. I'm not going to stand in your way."

"Oh, look, I see Amanda over there," James said, pointing to the Gryffindor seeker he'd been the captain of. "Why don't we all go say hello?" Without waiting for an answer, he, Lily, Buffy and Peter all scrambled up from their seats, having a feeling the conversation between Mandy and Sirius was about to get pretty serious – no pun intended.

"But we just got back together," Mandy said with a frown. "I don't want to lose you again… I mean, things are a bit tense, but we're working things out, right?"

Sirius sighed, dragging a hand through his long black hair. "Yes. But…I can tell this is something you want to do. And yes, I admit, I want you here, but…if you gave up your dream job for me, can you honestly say you wouldn't hate me a little for holding you back?" Sirius was lying, just a little bit – the truth was, he did want Mandy to stay – but at the same time, he wanted her to go: if the war was still going on when she graduated, he wanted her as far away from the mess that was Britain as soon as possible. Of course, he would never tell her this.

Mandy bit her lip. "I wouldn't hate you," she said quietly.

"Resent me, then," Sirius stated. "And if, along the way, we break up again, you would hate me for giving up your career for a relationship that didn't work out. You can't deny that."

"So you're just giving up on us?" Mandy asked, confused.

"No!" Sirius exclaimed. "After all the effort we're making to fix things? Of course I'm not giving up on us. All I'm saying is that we don't know what's going to happen. And you can't plan your life after what might be, or after what I want. And hey, we've made long-distance work for almost a year – well, more or less," he admitted. "We can manage some more, if that's what it takes. And we're _magical_ – floo, portkeys – there are ways."

Mandy smiled tearily, reminded of why she loved Sirius so much. He could be incredibly sweet sometimes. "You're right," she said, taking a deep breath. "But let's not think more of that now. I still have a few months to go before I need to make a decision, or even know if there's a decision to be made. We're here to have fun, right?"

"Right." He and Mandy rose and went to join the others, who were speaking with Amanda Lorne and the other members of James' Gryffindor Quidditch team that hadn't graduated with him, smiles on their faces.

* * *

Remus slowly sipped on his firewhiskey, fighting not to grimace at the strong taste – the bar in Knockturn Alley he was currently at was known for 'enhancing' their drinks with a little extra, and Remus could honestly say he didn't like the addition.

All his senses were on edge – the full moon was in two days, and being at a place like this, a place he really didn't want to be at, wasn't exactly making him feel at ease. Glancing nervously over his shoulder, he let his eyes flicker over the other people in the room. Most, if not all, of them were almost certainly on Voldemort's side. He felt like a small, insignificant worm in a cage filled with hungry birds, just waiting to be devoured.

"Hello, Lupin," a voice said and Remus slowly turned his head to meet with the cloaked figure now sitting beside him.

"You're not who I expected," Remus said shortly.

The man chuckled. "Disappointed?"

"More like surprised," Remus stated. "I didn't figure I was interesting enough that You-Know-Who would send one of his most high-ranking Death Eaters to meet with me."

Avery – Avery senior – chuckled. "There's a lot you don't know about the Dark Lord," he wheezed out. "And I suppose you expected either Gibbon or Wilkes?"

"They are whom I've had dealings with before, yes," Remus said tersely, fighting the urge to flee. Wilkes was his own age, more or less, and Gibbon was a lower-ranked Death Eater, as far as he could tell.

Avery however, was not: the man had years of experience of the Dark Arts, decades of working beside Voldemort, and was one of his most loyal and devoted followers – one of the first, in fact. Compared to Gibbon and Wilkes, Avery would not be as easy to fool. Perhaps that's why Voldemort had sent him.

"You should feel honoured. Gibbon and Wilkes are chicken fodder compared to me." He nonchalantly grabbed Remus' drink. "I hope you don't mind," he said, before swallowing the remaining liquid in the glass nonchalantly.

"I didn't like it much anyway," Remus muttered, lowering his head.

"I suppose your tastes are bit more…refined," Avery said slowly. "I must say we were surprised to get your message," the Death Eater continued, and that was true: no one had expected Lupin to suddenly give in – everyone had expected it to take a few more weeks, until the new werewolf legislation got passed (all thanks to the Death Eaters within the Ministry, of course). That would effectively make Lupin unemployed again and hopefully drive him into their hands when desperation struck. Yet, here he was, already.

It had made his Lord quite suspicious of Lupin's motives, considering how adamant he'd been in stating that he would never join the Dark Lord. His master worried that Lupin suspected his real reasons for trying to recruit him (reasons the Dark Lord had told him only) - and that's why he had been sent rather than Gibbon and Wilkes: while the two could be cruel, no doubt about it, they had nothing on him when it came to more..._delicate _work than torture and intimidation. "It made us quite…curious."

Remus licked his lips nervously. "Yes…I can see why arranging this meeting might seem…odd…to you."

"Indeed."

"The last visit Gibbon and Wilkes paid me," Remus began slowly, trying to find the words to formulate what he wanted to say just right: since he had expected Wilkes and Gibbon, he hadn't exactly planned anything out – he'd been counting on their stupidity doing half the work for him. With Avery, he had to be a far better actor. "They mentioned my girlfriend, and looked very surprised when I said she was fine. What do you want with her?"

Avery's eyebrow rose. Suddenly, Lupin's arrangement of this meeting made more sense – he wanted to make sure his girlfriend was safe. Or at least, so it seemed. "Nothing," the Death Eater said. "Not anymore. She will be left alone, I assure you."

Remus eyes narrowed. He'd planned to use his love for Buffy as a cover to earn Avery's trust, as a cover for arranging this meeting, and bargain for her safety at the same time in exchange for continued meetings with himself. That would give them further chances to recruit him to their side (not that he planned to give in, of course), and himself a chance to discern their real reason for trying in the first place, and, if he was lucky, other plans as well.

Now, however, he found himself curious at Avery's words: they weren't going to attack Buffy again? That made no sense – Voldemort was not known for letting those who escaped him once live. Did they know she was the Slayer after all and wanted to use her? "Why?" He asked warily. "Why would you do that? Not that I'm not grateful, but it makes no sense."

"I do not pretend to know the Dark Lord's motives," Avery said slowly. "I might be one of his most trusted servants, but there are many things he keeps to himself. And I do not question that. You should be grateful he has decided to let her live. See it as a sign, if you will: the Dark Lord can be merciful."

Remus inwardly snorted in disbelief, though to Avery, he just raised an eyebrow in slight doubt. "If it suits his own purposes."

"But of course," Avery inclined his head. "After all, don't we all have our own goals in life?"

"And what's yours?" Remus asked. "Why are you with him?"

Avery smirked, standing up. "Power. He has it."

"So does Dumbledore," Remus countered.

Avery sighed. "But what has he accomplished with his? He might be on the side of what you think of as good – but what has he really done for it? Say what you want about the Dark Lord, but at least he takes action – he doesn't just talk and talk and talk some more. He gets results."

"Carnage and destruction," Remus said, eyes narrowed in challenge.

"Every war demands sacrifice," Avery said smoothly. "An unfortunate, but nonetheless necessary, part of change."

"How can death be necessary?" Remus demanded to know.

"Why, to give way for new life, of course," Avery said, as if it should be obvious. "Out with the old, and in with the new. Even you can't deny our world is in desperate need of a good cleaning." He began to walk away. "Goodbye, Lupin."

"Wait!" Remus called out, his heart thumping wildly against his chest. He hadn't accomplished what he wanted with the meeting yet: He still had to convince Avery to meet with him again, to earn his trust. "I have more questions."

"_We_ will come to _you,_ Lupin," Avery said, stopping in his tracks. "Not the other way around. Our Lord still holds great interest in you, but _you_ don't set the terms for _anything._ _He _does. _You_ don't decide our meetings, or the length of them. _He _does, and he will do it, when it suits _him._ You will have to be content with that." He turned around, bowed slightly in Remus direction, and then spun around, disappearing with an almost quiet 'pop'.

Remus sat stock still by the bar, a little confused: Had this meeting been a success or a failure? Perhaps neither? While it hadn't gone in the direction he wanted, at least he'd gotten somewhere. Or hadn't he? Sighing, he stood, apparating away. He so wasn't cut out for this.

* * *

**14 February**

"Happy Valentine's Day," Lucan said, handing Belinda a set of red roses with a flourish, along with a box of Honeydukes finest chocolate, and a pink card, before settling down between she and Mandy at the Ravenclaw table (where Belinda now sat pretty much every meal).

"Wow, you're certainly not afraid to use the old clichés," Belinda said dryly.

Lucan shrugged. "What can I say? Nothing beats the old classics. At least I skipped the jewellery and perfume."

Belinda chuckled. "Probably just as well – I don't trust your taste when it comes to female products."

Mandy sniggered. "And you shouldn't. He got me a perfume once. I never wore it."

"What was it called?" Belinda asked, interestedly.

"_Fragrance of Succubus,"_ Mandy said matter-of-factly.

"What was wrong with that?" Lucan asked, offended, as Belinda groaned.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer," Mandy said, while spreading jam on a piece of toast.

"Probably just as well you're sticking with the safe and tested with me," Belinda told Lucan teasingly, opening her chocolate box, practically drooling at the collection inside. "If you ever gave me a perfume called _Fragrance of Succubus,_ you really shouldn't stay around long enough for me to react, if you value your manly bits."

"I still don't see what's so wrong with it," Lucan muttered, and both girls rolled their eyes. Lucan sighed. Sometimes, he dearly wished for some male friends…

An owl flew into the hall, carrying a smoking red letter, and Mandy paled as it landed on her plate. "A howler on Valentine's day?" Belinda asked, incredulous, as Mandy stared at the letter with apprehension. "Wow…someone must really hate you."

"You're not helping," Mandy muttered, poking at the red envelope with her wand. "Have I pissed someone off lately?" She asked out loud.

"Not that I know of…other than the Slytherins for standing up for Bel, of course," Lucan said, leaning back in his seat to wait for what was probably going to be a pretty entertaining scene: almost everybody in the Great Hall had their attention on Mandy and her howler by now. "Better just open it and get it over with," he advised.

Taking a deep breath, Mandy slit the envelope open, before quickly letting it go. A second letter, a loud roar filled the hall and Sirius voice was heard, a hundred times enhanced, making the cutlery shake. But rather than yelling, Sirius' voice was…singing and rhyming? _'OH, YOU KNOW I CANNOT BE VERY DISCREET, BUT YOU ARE THE ONE WITH THE LOVELIEST FEET. YOU ARE THE ONE WHO MAKES MY HEART POUND, AND YOU ARE THE ONE WHO MAKES MY WORLD GO ROUND. MANDY WALKER, MY LOVELY STALKER: BECAUSE OF YOU I'M UNATTACHED NO MORE, AND YOUR DEEPEST CORE I WISH TO EXPLORE. YOUR BEAUTY HAS LED ME SO VERY ASTRAY; NOW I WISH YOU A HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!'_

The red envelope burst into flames and became nothing but ashes as Sirius rather original Valentine's greeting ended, and the Great Hall became filled with amused chatter and wolf-whistles, everyone very entertained by the display.

"Well," Belinda stated cheerfully. "That was certainly a creative use of a howler."

Mandy's face was beet red. "I'm going to kill him," she muttered. "I swear I am!"

Lucan grinned widely. "Well, you know what they say – once a Marauder, always a Marauder."

* * *

**25 February**

"I can't believe them!" Buffy yelled angrily, tearing the Daily Prophet she'd been reading apart.

"What's wrong?" Remus entered, an apple in his mouth. "Anyway, I'm off to the store. It's a lot more fun running it than I expected. A new shipment of records is coming today. If you've got time, you could come and help me unpack later this afternoon?"

Buffy lowered her head. "Remus…about the store…" She sighed, repairing the pieces of the newspaper with a flick of her wand. "Here."

Frowning, Remus accepted the paper, paling as he saw the headline.

_MINISTRY TAKES ACTION_

_In an effort to lower the monetary support given to You-Know-Who, last night, the Minister of Magic passed legislation that, effective immediately, makes sure those with lycanthropy are no longer eligible for ownership of any sort of private business. As an extra precaution to make sure no one can work around this new law, no one living with or anyone closely associated with lycanthropes, even if they are not under the curse themselves, cannot do so either._

'_It is a huge step against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-__Named,' Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, stated on the behalf of Minister Brutus Tool. 'This legislation will force the beasts out of our society. The law will effectively lessen the financial aid You-Know-Who gets from the creatures who seek to destroy our community from the inside, by pretending they are just like one of us.'_

_Any private business currently owned by somebody affected with either lycanthropy (all businesses affected by the bill – this includes stores, companies, minor corporations etc. – will be crosschecked with the werewolf registry to control the legality of the ownership status) will automatically be transferred to the Ministry this following week and the former owners sent a notice per owl._

Remus had just finished the article when a tired-looking Ministry owl flew in through the window, dropping a letter at the table, and flying off. Picking it up, Remus was not surprised to see the notice confirming Mystical Records was now under Ministry control and would be shut down completely due to its main focus towards muggles rather than wizards. "I guess I'm not off to work then," Remus said tiredly, sitting down by the table, feeling strangely numb: He couldn't say he was surprised, or even angry. Just…apathetic.

* * *

_**Published: **06/10 -10_


	17. Regulus

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**2 ****March**

Voldemort sat by the desk in his office, flicking through his notes. Translating the book he'd had Regulus recover was more difficult than he had counted on. Oh, he had known it would be time-consuming, of course, but he hadn't expected it to be so…unrewarding. So far, most of the information was useless, or rather, it felt that way. He knew that hidden within all the gibberish were the clues he needed to achieve immortality, but it was very difficult to separate the truth from the untruth.

Regulus helped, of course: since dropping out of school, the youngest Black had been a great aid in pushing his research further ahead. But all he could help with was the translation itself, not finding the secret keys hidden in the translation – not that Voldemort would trust him with trying to uncover that. Oh, he knew the boy was loyal, but he also knew first-hand how addictive power could be. And if given the chance…if Regulus found what he wanted first…of course he would go after it. Anyone would.

Voldemort was slightly disappointed in Regulus' failure to recruit his older brother – Sirius Black would make a powerful ally – but at the same time, perhaps it had been for the best. After all, manipulating people was so fun, and thanks to him and Regulus, the first seeds in Black's mind had been planted, the suspicion raised: soon, the older Black wouldn't know who to trust, or were to turn… Even if the blood-traitor never joined him, his efforts were certain to pay off one way or another.

Picking up the book, staring at its rather plain cover, he let his thoughts wander back to his conclusions in regards to the tales within. There were certain passages that had caught his eye. At various places, it mentioned different locations, the descriptions extremely clear and precise, very detailed, in a way other locations the book mentioned weren't. As though the writer had been at those spots first hand – as though it wasn't just hearsay. A meadow…a cave…a lake…and a mountain….

Another thing that had caught his attention in the book was the continued references to life, death and rebirth, and a mark of lightning. In several of the legends written down within, a child marked with lightning was said to be the bringer of a new dawn, along with someone they called 'the Chosen' - someone who was said to have crossed dimensions.

It made him wonder, and also a little frightened. A child of lightning…bringer of a new dawn... Now, if he himself had been marked with lightning, it would have made a lot more sense. But alas, he was not, and as such, there must be another player out there. But perhaps it was too soon to worry about that – after all, who knew if the child the book spoke of would appear in this century?

And if a dimensional traveller appeared, Voldemort felt very certain he would be among the first to know. After all, if a portal appeared somewhere, wouldn't he sense it, with his power? And wouldn't the entire Wizarding World know of it? It would be a sensational occurrence! No, why needlessly worry about such impossibilities? Once he was immortal, he would have all the time in the world to figure it out. What interested him most at the moment were the locations mentioned.

He had researched extensively, taking into account when the book was written (or when he thought it had been, anyway), in order to find these places. He just knew they were the key to the location of the power source… But so far, no luck, with the exception of one location - the descriptions of the cave had sounded awfully familiar, and had made him flashback to less happy times, when he'd been living at an orphanage…

Oh, there had been differences, in what he could recall of the cave and the descriptions the book made, of course, but time changed things, even nature herself. What he had done to young Dennis Bishop and Amy Benson at that cave never failed to make him smile… And he was now convinced the cave was the first clue.

To think, that as a child, he had been there, but never realized… Or maybe he had – there had been a strange power there, intoxicating, whispering… Voldemort cocked his head to the side. Why had he never returned there? Oh, that's right – his plans of ruling the Wizarding World had gotten in the way. He cackled out loud.

Twirling his wand absently in his left hand he wrote down, in detail, what he had just figured out, adding a map to the cave's location, before putting away his notes in a desk drawer, making sure all the protective enchantments were still active.

A knock on the door made him look up, and his red eyes gleamed as Regulus stepped inside. "Ah, Regulus, on time as always."

Regulus made a hasty bow. "What can I do for you my Lord?" He mumbled. "Do you need more help with the book?"

"Not at this moment, no. I find myself in need of a house-elf. You have one in your service, is that not right?"

Regulus swallowed. "Yes. His name is Kreacher."

"Excellent," Voldemort said, pleased. After all, he had no idea what he would face in the cave now when he had a deeper purpose than torturing his peers from the orphanage. The secrets that cave held were certain to be many, and Voldemort had no desire to be the target for the nasty surprises that were sure to await him. "Have him report to me, in an hour, and order him to follow my every command. Understood?"

"Yes, my Lord," Regulus said, bowing again, but he didn't leave.

"Was there anything else?" Voldemort asked, bored. "You seem reluctant to follow my orders, Regulus…"

"I-I know it's not my place to question you, master, but…w-what do you need a house-elf for?"

"_CRUCIO!" _

Regulus screamed in pain, falling to his knees as the curse hit him. "You're right that it isn't your place to question," Voldemort said coolly, putting extra strength in the Unforgivable. "Only to do my bidding. Perhaps I have been too lenient lately." He lowered his wand, breaking the curse, watching in disgust as Regulus dry-heaved. "Now get out of my sight."

Once Regulus left the room, Voldemort sighed. It was so difficult to find good minions… Regulus was one of the better, and had, in fact, held his favour now for quite a long time (the younger they were, the more malleable they became to his liking, after all) but he wasn't irreplaceable. No one was, and it was about time the young Black got himself a reminder that he, too, was expendable.

**3 March**

Regulus paced back and forth in his room at Grimmauld Place. Kreacher had been gone for far too long now…and when he had spoken to Severus through the floo, it seemed the Dark Lord had already returned, and had barracked himself into his office, telling everyone he did not want to be disturbed.

Finally, Regulus could stand the waiting no longer. "Kreacher!" He yelled out, summoning the elf, but nothing happened. In full panic now, Regulus summoned the elf again: "Kreacher! I order you to come home!" Regulus cared about the elf – Sirius had always hated the servant, but the younger Black brother had always had a soft spot for him. He'd taken care of both the brothers when their parents were too busy, and after Sirius left, Kreacher was pretty much the only one he could talk to honestly. "Kreacher!"

Finally, the elf appeared – he was soaking wet, shivering and sobbing, pulling at his ears in desperation. His wrinkly skin was blackened; looking burnt in places, and covered in thin lacerations. "Master Regulus summoned Kreacher!" Kreacher wheezed out, sounding as though he had trouble speaking. "Brave Master Regulus! Good Master Regulus!"

"Kreacher, what happened?" Regulus asked, kneeling down to sit in front of the house-elf, summoning his pillow-case and wrapped it around the trembling servant.

"Kreacher was a good elf!" Kreacher wailed. "I followed the Dark Lord's orders, like you said!"

"I believe you," Regulus soothed. "You are the best of elves, Kreacher, but I need you to tell me what he had you do."

"He took me to a cave," Kreacher wheezed out. "A dark cave, beside the sea. Kreacher did not like the cave, not at all. There was magic there; the strangest magic! The Dark Lord was looking around, and then he found a cavern beyond the cave, and the cavern was even worse! There was a great black lake… Kreacher could sense magic coming from it, and he wanted so badly to leave, but the Dark Lord demanded Kreacher stay, so I stayed. Kreacher did as you ordered, Master Regulus! Kreacher was a good elf!"

"I know you were," Regulus said. "Keep talking."

"There was an island in the lake, and the Dark Lord made Kreacher go to it."

"Alone?" Regulus asked. "He didn't ask you to take him there?"

"Oh, no!" Kreacher shook his head wildly. "No! He must have sensed the strange magic too! It was stronger around the island. Kreacher popped to the island and as he landed, his feet burned! They burned so badly, but the Dark Lord made Kreacher stay. And silver light came from the lake, blinding light, burning Kreacher's eyes and skin when it surrounded the island, covering it. The reddest magic appeared within the silver, like great whips, hurting Kreacher!"

Regulus felt sick. The magic…that's where the burns and lacerations came from. "And the Dark Lord? What was he doing?"

"Laughing, Master. The Dark Lord laughed, almost dancing with joy! Around the cavern walls, strange symbols appeared, glowing red and silver. And then those symbols left the cavern wall, just floating on nothing, swivelling around Kreacher. The magic from the lake absorbed the symbols, and there was a great flash of light and then…"

"And then…?"

"Gone, Master Regulus! All gone. Nothing remained but a ball of light, and it floated over to Kreacher, landing in his hands, and it became a very strangely shaped rock. That's when the Dark Lord told me to come back, and he took the rock."

"What happened next, Kreacher?" Regulus asked, breathlessly. "What did he do next?"

"He put the rock in his pocket, Master," Kreacher said. "And then he did some very nasty magic on the cavern, on the lake, and on the island, and then…" Kreacher shuddered.

"You must tell me," Regulus said kindly, stroking one of Kreacher's long, bat-like ears in comfort. "Even if it's awful, you must tell me."

"H-he told Kreacher to jump into the lake. And Kreacher did as he said. Kreacher jumped into the lake and it hurt so badly! The lake was boiling, Master, boiling Kreacher alive! And there was magic in it, magic from the Dark Lord and Kreacher was in so much pain… He was burning, from the inside! Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed, even as Kreacher sank, he laughed, and then he left, and the cavern went dark, and Kreacher kept sinking…hurting…and then you summoned Kreacher, and Kreacher is here."

Regulus was pale as a ghost. He knew the Dark Lord's sudden trip to the cave must have something to do with the book, and he had used Kreacher: used Kreacher to test the area, like a coward, to make sure he himself wouldn't get hurt… And then he'd left the elf there to die, as good as telling him to kill himself… Regulus felt a sudden need to puke.

The book…its secrets… If this was an example of the kind of secrets it held, it was better left alone. If it held the secrets to immortality, like the Dark Lord thought… Regulus shuddered. He had been such a fool, he realized now. Sirius had been right all along. The Dark Lord didn't want what was best for the Wizarding World – he wanted what was best for him. Power, immortality…And he didn't care who he had to hurt to get it.

"But why would he leave you there?" Regulus frowned to himself. It made no sense. He understood the Dark Lord wouldn't want anyone to know about what had transpired in the cave, but why hadn't he killed Kreacher himself if that was the case? Surely the Dark Lord must have realized Regulus would summon him back… "Unless he didn't know…" He muttered. "But how can he not know the strength between a house-elf and his master…the magic house-elf has…everyone raised in a wizarding household knows that."

His heart almost came to a stop. _Everyone raised in a wizarding household._ What if the Dark Lord hadn't been raised in the Wizarding World? "Oh, Merlin…" Regulus was horrified at the realisation. The Dark Lord wasn't a pureblood. He was a half-blood, at best. All his preaching about purifying the Wizarding World, about returning it to the glory of the old days…

All his sprouting off about how the pureblood way was the only right way…it was all lies. Just a way for him to gather followers, money, and more power: who held the most influence? Purebloods. Who had the most money? Purebloods. Who were the most dissatisfied citizens? Purebloods. And suddenly, the Dark Lord's recruitment of Snape made sense as well. It had confused them all, the interest the Dark Lord held in him, considering he was just a half-blood, but in the end, they had figured he was the 'exception to the rule' - after all, everyone knew about his abilities in potions. But the truth was, when it all came down to it, the Dark Lord could care less about the purity of blood. They were all just means to an end, a means to more power.

"I'm such a fool," Regulus whispered out loud. The Dark Lord didn't deserve the secrets the book held; he certainly did not deserve the immortality, or the power. Did anyone, for that matter? Regulus had a feeling the secrets the book held were best left forgotten. Just possessing the book had brought so much death and ruin. The dead face of Monique de Mort flashed past his eyes. No, the book had to be destroyed.

"Kreacher, I want you to stay here. Stay hidden, and don't leave the house," Regulus said. "Don't come out until I return, and summon you, and only if I'm alone."

"Yes, Master," Kreacher croaked out.

"Also, and this is very important, Kreacher," Regulus continued slowly. "I will probably be carrying a book. I want you to take the book from me, even if I seem reluctant to hand it over – especially if I seem reluctant." He remembered the possessive feeling he'd sensed when he'd held it last, and he wasn't looking forward to experiencing that again. When he had been translating the contents, he'd been careful to only use magic in his dealings with it, using a spell to turn the pages. "Even if I order you not to, you must take it."

"Yes, Master," Kreacher bowed.

"Once you have it, I will give you further orders, alright?" Regulus stood. "Remember – stay hidden," he ordered, leaving the room, and Grimmauld Place.

Regulus slowly entered Sirius' empty apartment with the keys he'd been given for Christmas. He couldn't help but smile slightly at the small, fluffy black dog hanging from the key-ring, loving his brother with everything he had in that moment.

Walking into the kitchen, he placed the pre-written farewell note to his brother on the table, along with the key. Hearing a noise from the hallway, Regulus carefully peeked around the corner, seeing Sirius enter, looking tired. For longer than what was probably safe if he wanted to remain undiscovered, Regulus drank in the sight of him like a dying man (which he in all probability was). This was likely the last time he would ever see his brother, and he wanted to treasure it for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, the possibility was only a few seconds as Sirius soon finished taking off his cloak and shoes and began walking towards the kitchen. Regulus quickly apparated away, just as Sirius turned the corner, wand out, having heard the noise. "Hello?"

Seeing the key-ring and the note on the table, Sirius frowned as he picked both items up, looking around. "Regulus?" Sighing, he looked down to read what his brother had written, face paling.

_I'm sorry. I can't take this anymore. What I've discovered the past few days has turned my world upside down. I will try to do the right thing. It might kill me. It might not. But I hope you'll be proud of me, brother. I know we've had our issues, and I haven't been as honest with you as I should have. But know that I love you. You have taught me so much, and I only wish I had listened sooner. _

_As my last advice to you, you should know that things are not always what they seem, nor are the people you surround yourself with and trust. It's something I learned the hard way, and I only hope you won't be exposed to the same sort of betrayal. Also know that this is not a goodbye, not exactly. I have hope we will meet again someday, beyond death's veil, and when that day comes, I hope the circumstances will be kinder to us than it has been in this life, and allow us to truly be brothers._

_Reg._

Sinking down to the floor, Sirius could feel tears in his eyes. What in Merlin's name had Regulus gotten caught up in? And suddenly, the Marauder just knew with absolute certainty, that he would never see his brother alive again. "Reg..."

**5 March**

Regulus had been spending the past two nights at the Dark Lord's Headquarters, waiting for the opportune moment, but it seemed the Dark-Lord had no intention of leaving his office any time soon. Finally, he decided he had waited long enough, and knocked on the door before entering. "My Lord," he bowed.

"Regulus," Voldemort said, sounding displeased, and as Regulus rose, he saw him close a drawer in his desk after putting something inside. "What can I do for you?"

"I-I am just wondering where Kreacher is," Regulus lied. "Do you still have need of his services?"

"I am afraid your elf had an unfortunate accident on our mission," Voldemort said, not sounding very sorry at all. "If it is your wish, I shall purchase a new one to replace him."

"That won't be necessary," Regulus said, keeping a careful lid on his other emotions, making sure his Occlumency shields were at full strength. "Is there anything else I can do for you, my Lord?"

"No, I think I will manage the translation of the book fine by myself from now on. I have no new mission for you, so you are welcome to either return to Hogwarts and finish your education there, or study independently for your NEWTs."

"Yes, my Lord," Regulus said.

"You can go," Voldemort said disinterestedly.

"Just one more thing, my Lord," Regulus said hesitantly. "The rest of your followers…they are wondering when you're planning to leave your office. They are getting restless."

"Well, you can tell them I don't exist to do their bidding – they exist to do mine, and the sooner they learn that, the better," Voldemort said, red eyes blazing. "I will leave when I feel like it. Now get out of my sight!"

Regulus quickly left, heart thumping, and also feeling slightly desperate. He didn't know how much longer he could keep up the act that everything was fine and that no; he was not planning on betraying the Dark Lord at all! He sighed. He just wanted it over and done with…

**6 March**

The next day, the Dark Lord finally left his office to settle in his 'throne room' instead. After a Death Eater meeting, during which plans for another attack was discussed (though the Dark Lord seemed distracted), Regulus left and snuck into his office under a disillusionment charm once he slowly unmade all the Dark Lords protections and alerting spells around and on the door. Though Regulus had no doubt he had missed something – after all, he was just a student who hadn't even finished his last year at Hogwarts - that he was at the top of his class mattered little compared to the Dark Lord's decades of experience. As such, he knew he had very little time.

Once inside, he immediately headed over to the desk, wasting no time, he simply grabbed all the papers he could see and placed them in a bottom less pouch he carried in his pocket. Then, a quick _'bombarda'_ destroyed the desk drawers – discretion was useless; all that mattered was to grab what he could, and leave before they caught him – and he quickly grabbed all he could find within them as well.

But the book was nowhere to be seen, and Regulus could feel the panic settling in. What use was what he had already grabbed without the book which would only enable the Dark Lord to start over? What if the Dark Lord carried the book with him, like Monique de Mort? _'I always try to keep it close to my heart...' _And what of the strangely shaped rock Kreacher had spoken of? Where was that?

Looking around wildly, Regulus tore through the room, both with magic and his bare hands. He could hear angry voices now. Tears were burning at the corner of his eyes. If he was found before he could escape with what he came for...it would all be for nothing.

By accident, Regulus stumbled on the corner of the rug in the room, and he fell. And there, he saw it: at the base of the bookcase, there seemed to be two notches in the wood. Crawling forward, Regulus placed his hand at the space between, and immediately got a shock for his trouble. Again, wasting no time on finesse, another _'bombarda' _blew the bottom part of the bookcase apart, making it fall over – and also revealing that the two notches were the edges of a hidden drawer, holding what he had been looking for.

Grabbing the rock and the book, immediately feeling the strange possessiveness settle over him, Regulus headed for the door, knowing you couldn't apparate out within the building. He was still under the charm, and managed to sneak past the frightened looking Death Eaters now entering the room. However, he wasn't so lucky in passing by an enraged Dark Lord, as the moment their paths crossed, he froze, red eyes blazing and staring straight at Regulus. He pointed his wand at him, even as Regulus began running, and just as he turned the corner of the corridor, he could feel the effects of a _'Finite Incantatem'_ hit him, cancelling his disillusionment charm.

Regulus blasted the Death Eaters he saw as he ran away, panting wildly, ducking and weaving the curses sent at him from behind: he got hit by some, but none that would force him to stop (and no one had sent a green curse after him yet – it seemed the Dark Lord wanted him alive), and he kept running. Finally, he saw a window he could reach – there were no men standing in front of it, and he threw himself physically at the glass which broke beneath his weight – and then, there was grass beneath his feet. He spun around, and with a large 'crack' he was gone.

"Kreacher!" Regulus yelled, and Kreacher immediately appeared.

"Master Regulus is home!" Kreacher exclaimed, his expression becoming one of fretting concern when he saw the state of him, covered in pieces of glass, grass, wooden shards and blood. "You is hurt."

"We must leave at once," Regulus panted. "Take my hand, and transport us somewhere else, I don't care where. Just get us away. This is the first place they will check."

Kreacher wrung his hands. "You must give me the book first," he said. "You ordered Kreacher to take the book."

Regulus froze, feeling that protective feeling settle upon him once again, and he clutched it closer to his chest. After all he had done to get it, he was certainly not going to hand it over now! "What? No, we don't have time for this," he snapped. "Just get us away from here!"

"You must give Kreacher the book!" Kreacher wailed. "Master ordered!" And then the little elf threw himself at Regulus, physically wrenching the book out of a surprised Regulus' hands. Kreacher immediately began to smack himself over the head with it. "Oh, bad Kreacher for not listening to Master! Bad Kreacher for following Master's orders and yet disobeying!"

Immediately, Regulus felt the fog in his mind dissipate. "No, Kreacher, I forbid you to punish yourself! You did what I wanted. Now get us out of here."

Kreacher nodded, and with a snap of his fingers, they both disappeared, reappearing behind some dumpsters in an abandoned alleyway. "Where are we, Kreacher?" Regulus asked.

"Near St. Mungo's, Master," Kreacher wheezed out. "Master is hurt."

"It doesn't matter," Regulus said, while trying to think of what to do next. "Here." He pulled out the pouch from his pocket and hung it around Kreacher's neck, after putting the strangely shaped rock inside as well. "I want you to have this, and I want you to keep it safe. Let no one see you have it. Do you understand, Kreacher?"

"Yes, Master!"

"And the book you're holding…" Regulus bit his lip. "Destroy it, by any means necessary."

"Kreacher will destroy the awful book!" Kreacher nodded eagerly, and Regulus was glad it seemed the book had no hold over Kreacher – or if it did, his orders had just overridden whatever magic it held over people.

"As for the things in that pouch…the reason I want you to have it, is that someday, I believe the information it holds can bring peace to the Wizarding World," Regulus said. The truth was, he wanted all the knowledge destroyed – but he also knew how foolish it would be. What if the Dark Lord remembered all that he had discovered and found the power source anyway, despite what Regulus had just done to prevent it?

If he did, the only way to stop him would be to send someone else there as well, to make that person just as invincible. And if Regulus had all that knowledge destroyed now, and left the Dark Lord the only one aware (if he remembered, and Regulus doubted he ever forgot), no one would have a fighting chance against him.

Destroying the book was one thing and considering the magic it reeked of, it was better left forgotten: Regulus didn't think the Dark Lord had had time to translate all of it, and as such, he shouldn't know more than what was in the pouch right now. If the original was destroyed, there was no chance of him ever discovering the rest - it would make it much harder for the Dark Lord to reach his goal. But the translations could be of great help, if the right people got their hands on it: he remembered the notes he'd translated – there had been mentions of a chosen one, and a child of lightning, bringers of a new dawn. Perhaps they were the match to the Dark Lord, a light to balance his darkness.

Regulus had to hope. He had never imagined himself fighting for the side of light, and even now, he didn't consider himself a good person, exactly – though he was sure Sirius would disagree. But if it was one thing he had learned this year, it was that sometimes, things don't always work out the way you expected them to, and you should never take anything for granted.

Everyone wore a mask – everyone had something to hide, and everyone could change into someone you could never foresee. People could surprise you – and you could even surprise yourself: Regulus had never been a warrior, never a leader – always a follower – until now. He had broken free, and while Regulus knew the cost would be his life, he had gained so much more. And it had been his actions, his choices, and his terms, which had taken him here, to this moment. And he didn't regret a thing.

"If you meet someone marked by lightning one day, Kreacher, I want you to give the pouch and the things inside it to that person. Tell that person that it holds the ultimate plans of V-V-Voldemort, and that we're all counting on this person to make it right. To stop him. To bring us all the dawn of salvation."

"Yes, Master. But why can't you do it?" Kreacher stared up at him with large, bulging eyes, ears drooping.

Regulus smiled weakly. "Because I don't know when this person will arrive, and I doubt it will be within the next few hours." He took a deep breath. "I want you to take me to the cave."

Kreacher looked terrified. "And I want you to leave me there, and then I want you to go back to Grimmauld place, and act like everything is normal," Regulus continued. "Destroy the book, protect the pouch."

"Kreacher cannot leave Master in that horrible place!"

"You must!" Regulus demanded. "The Dark Lord will find me, and he must continue to believe you are dead. You cannot let him see you, or let any of his followers know you're alive either. He must be led to believe that I'm the only one who knows about the book and its secrets, and the only way to make him feel safe is i-if he kills me."

"Master will die?"

"Yes, Kreacher, I will," Regulus said sorrowfully. "But I resigned myself to that fate the moment I began to plot against the Dark Lord. You will live, and make sure I don't die for nothing. And you can tell no one of what has transpired between you and me these past few days, tell no one of what I have told you; tell no one about the cave, tell no one that I headed there. The only one you are allowed to tell is the child of lightning. Now, will you do as I ask?"

"Kreacher will obey," Kreacher said in a trembling voice. He snapped his fingers, and then, they were standing in a dark cave. Kreacher shivered.

"How do you get to the cavern with the lake and the island?" Regulus whispered, goose bumps rising along his skin. Kreacher had been right – this place was filled with strange, foreign and powerful magic.

"Blood," Kreacher said, pointing with a shaky finger at an innocent looking wall in the cave. "Blood on the wall reveals the cavern."

Regulus nodded and pulled up the sleeve on his left arm, revealing the Dark Mark – it had been hurting him in the worst way ever since his escape from the Dark Lord's hideout, and Regulus had no doubt he could be tracked through it as well. He smirked as he took one of the glass shards imbedded in his clothing and used it to cut a long line through the mark. It was very liberating, destroying that which bound him to Voldemort: a final symbol of his disobedience.

Walking forward to the wall, he stroked his now heavily bleeding arm against the rocky surface, and watched as the blazing silver outline of an arch appeared in the wall around the place where Regulus had stroked his blood, and the rocky surface within the outline vanished, leaving an opening into what looked to be total darkness.

"This is where we part ways," Regulus told Kreacher quietly, hugging the house-elf close. "You have been the best servant I could ever wish for…and a good friend."

Tears appeared in Kreacher's eyes now. "Master Regulus is too kind to poor Kreacher!"

"It is you who is too kind," Regulus said, growing slightly teary himself. "Now go!"

Untangling himself from Regulus' embrace, Kreacher made a deep bow in his direction, and then, disappeared. Regulus was alone. Gulping, Regulus walked through the archway and into the cavern, wand held aloft. _"Lumos Maxima,"_ he muttered, and his surroundings were lit up. It was just as Kreacher had described. A great, black lake, with a small island in the middle, and the entire cavern was covered in heavy magic that made it difficult to breathe. It was both intoxicating and incredibly frightening.

"So…you have found your way here, it seems," a voice behind him said, and Regulus spun around, coming face to face with the Dark Lord's terrifying visage – and it was. The Dark Lord's fury was incredibly easy to read. "Of all my followers, I never expected you to betray me…" He slowly approached, forcing Regulus to back closer to the lake. "Was it the power, Regulus? Did you want it for yourself?"

Regulus' nostrils flared. This was it…the final confrontation…his final stand. He would make sure it counted. "No. I just didn't want you to have it."

"Why?"

"Because you're nothing more than a half-blood," Regulus spat – it was a gamble, since the Dark Lord's origins had been nothing more than speculation on his part – but it seemed it had struck true, as the Dark Lord froze in his steps. "You don't care about blood-purity," Regulus continued. "You only care about yourself and the power we can give you. You've used me, and you're using all of us to further your own ends. You've built our loyalty to you on lies, and that I can't forgive. You don't deserve to find out the secrets of the book. You're unworthy."

"Where is it?" Voldemort hissed dangerously, wand raised. "Where are the book and the symbol? Where is all my research?"

"Oh, you mean all that stuff I took from your office?" Regulus smirked. "You won't find it, even if you tried. I've burnt it all. The book too. It made quite an explosion, actually. That strange rock-thing, though…that just melted. Fizzled out. It's all gone. You won't ever reach the power-source, nor will anyone else."

"You're lying!" Voldemort spat. "You're a Slytherin – you would never destroy so much power."

Regulus laughed. "Believe what you want. I couldn't care less about the power those items held. After all, I knew you were going to kill me the moment you found out I had taken them, so what use would I have for it? And as a Slytherin, I wouldn't let anyone else have it either. My pride would never allow it. I can't wait to tell everyone in the afterlife how I bested the great, Dark Lord Voldemort."

"You dare say my name?" Voldemort's eyes looked like two great pits of blood, and Regulus barely managed to keep himself from shivering as he could feel the magic the Dark Lord had let loose around him in his anger.

"What can I say?" Regulus shrugged. "You hold no power over me anymore. You're nothing. And really – flight from death? That should have been the first clue that you're nothing more than a power-hungry, ego-centric coward. I've won, Voldemort."

"You've won nothing," the Dark Lord spat. "All the knowledge you say you destroyed – I remember all the translations. I can still find the power-source. It may take me a bit longer than I expected, but I'm nothing if not patient."

"Yeah, but see, I kind of have the feeling that rock-thing was sort of important." Regulus chuckled. "And your memory won't help you recover that."

Regulus was prepared for the blast from the Dark Lord's wand – he had expected it to be Avada Kevada green, however, so when it struck his chest and sent him flying into the middle of the lake, he was surprised. And then, he started screaming as the pain hit him. This was what Kreacher had felt.

The moment he had hit the surface of the lake, the water within began to boil: It burnt his skin, turning it red and making it blister, and he could feel the magic crackle along the rippling waves as smoke rose from it, and it felt as though he was being continually electrocuted, as though is very insides were liquefying, melting. And the magic was dragging him under – it was becoming harder and harder to stay above the surface.

Even as this happened, the Dark Lord stared at the scene coldly from the edge of the lake, no sign of compassion on his face. "You thought I would grant you an easy death?" He asked. "A quick, painless death? You deserve no such thing. I gave you my trust, and you betrayed it."

"An eye for an eye," Regulus croaked, before breaking out in new, pained screams – it felt like his vocal chords were giving up, his screams growing hoarser and weaker.

"You deserve never-ending torment," Voldemort spat. "And death by humiliation. Dying like your low house-elf. How does that make you feel?"

"Honoured," Regulus managed to wheeze out, meeting Voldemort's eyes unflinchingly, even as he failed to keep himself afloat, the magic that was pulling at him too strong. And then he was sinking, beneath the black surface, even as the magic in the lake kept torturing him, even as the water kept boiling him. He could feel his lungs be filled with the hot fluid, causing him pain that was ten times as worse than before as it seemed to reach the very depths of his very being; his very soul. And he was still sinking, seeing nothing but darkness, feeling nothing but absolute pain that overrode even the satisfaction of victory, overrode the ability to think at all – and he knew no more.

Voldemort watched, completely indifferent, as Regulus sank beneath the dark water, disappearing from view. A few more seconds passed by, and then, the surface grew still once more, looking like shining black glass, deceivingly calm. And then he walked away.

A traitor was dead. Unfortunately, he had managed to shatter so many of his plans. But even though the symbol he'd gotten from this cave was lost, he still had three more he could recover, from the three remaining locations… Perhaps that would be enough. Let no one say the Dark Lord wasn't persistent. And Regulus' actions had taught him a valuable lesson – he could trust no one but himself.

Kreacher stared in absolute despair at the book. He had been unsuccessful. He had tried everything, but no matter what he did, it didn't even leave a mark on it. He had punished himself, tried again, punished himself, tried again… but nothing could destroy it. Sobbing, he resigned himself to his failure and put the book in the pouch along with the other things. If Kreacher could not destroy it, he would hide it, protect it with his life…until the lightning child came and he could carry out Master Regulus' last orders.

"Kreacher!" His mistress called from below, and Kreacher took off the pouch, hiding it carefully inside his cupboard. He could let no one see he had it. "Do you know where Regulus is, Kreacher?" Walburga Black demanded to know once Kreacher appeared in front of him. "Even if he is with the Dark Lord, he always checks in."

"Kreacher knows, but Kreacher can't say!" Kreacher wailed. "Kreacher promised Master Regulus."

"Well, I'm your mistress, and I'm ordering you to tell me," Walburga said. "Where is he?"

"Kreacher promised!" Kreacher repeated despairingly. He would obey Master Regulus, even if it meant disobeying his Mistress. He smacked himself in the face. "Bad Kreacher! Bad Kreacher for disobeying Mistress!"

Walburga sighed, knowing if Regulus had ordered Kreacher, there was nothing she could do to undo those orders, it seemed, not even a counter-order. It shouldn't surprise her – after all, the elf had always been sickeningly loyal to her youngest. "Is he alright, then? When will he return?"

Kreacher began to bawl. "Master Regulus is not coming back! Master Regulus is gone! Gone forever!"

Walburga paled, stumbling backwards as if slapped. Gone? Regulus was…gone? "What do you mean, he is gone?" Walburga demanded, but the distraught elf only shook his head, and then, with another mournful wail and smack to his face, he disappeared, presumably to one of his many hiding places in the house. Walburga sank down on a chair, beginning to rock back and forth in anguish. "Gone…my Regulus. Gone! The Black line…ruined. Everything…ruined! My son! MY SON! MY SON IS GONE!"

If not for the many protections on Grimmauld place, everyone in a wide mile radius would have been able to hear the loud screams of misery mixed in with slight hysteria coming from inside. As it was, since Orion Black wasn't home, the only one who could hear Walburga's shouts were the portraits and Kreacher, and the house-elf was too distressed about Regulus' fate, his own failure, and his disobedience to his mistress, to care. In fact, the elf would care about very little for many years to come, even as his mistress sank deeper into madness.

_And so began the fall__ of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black…with the death of a son._

* * *

_**Published: **__20/10 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Pieces of this chapter were loosely based on/inspired by HP and the Half-Blood Prince: Chapter 26 - The Cave, and HP the Deathly Hallows: Chapter 10 – Kreacher's Tale, adjusted to fit the plot and story of Roads Travelled.


	18. Grief

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**7 March**

It had been four days since Sirius had found Regulus' note. He'd spent the time since trying to desperately find him, first by going to Grimmauld place where he'd been met by his father, Orion. Orion said he didn't know where Regulus was, only that he was 'gone' – and he only knew that much because his mother spent most of her waking hours yelling about it.

It hadn't escaped Sirius' notice that his father had been uncharacteristically sombre – he had never been a very happy person, but it was clear Regulus' disappearance had hit him hard. Orion hadn't even mustered up the strength to be unpleasant to Sirius as per usual, and had looked ill and sickly.

After his visit to Grimmauld, which had given him nothing, Sirius had decided to take more drastic measures. He had to find Regulus, or at least find out what had happened. From his note, all Sirius had been able to discern Regulus was going to do something that might get him killed. The only thing that Sirius could think of that would make Regulus so convinced he would die was if he had decided to go against Voldemort.

And the only one who would know what fate had befallen his brother was Voldemort himself, or one of his higher-ranked Death Eaters. Since Sirius had no idea where their Headquarters were, his best bet was the slums of Knockturn Alley, his current location.

Sirius checked that the shadows from his hood covered his face for what must be the twentieth time. He was on edge. He hated the way the pub he was in stank of dark magic, and wanted nothing more than to leave. But he knew he had to be patient. Sirius glanced towards the entrance of the building again. He had been here for over two hours, and no Death Eater that he could recognise had walked in so far.

His eyes narrowed when finally someone he knew very well to be a Death Eater stepped inside – Avery senior. He forced himself to relax, knowing he had to wait until the man left the pub before grabbing him: doing so while surrounded by dark wizards was not the best idea. Suddenly, Sirius could swear Avery was looking straight at him, causing him to tense up. But then, the Death Eater moved away, heading towards the opposite side of the pub, and Sirius let out a shaky breath. That had been a close call.

"Lupin," he heard Avery say and Sirius' eyes narrowed, his head snapping towards the dark corner of the pub the Death Eater was approaching. Someone already sat there, and though he was dressed in dark clothing, Sirius would be able to recognise him from miles away: Remus. What the hell was he doing here?

"Avery," he heard Remus say pleasantly. "Please, sit down."

Sirius licked his lips nervously. On Remus' voice, it sounded almost as if he and Avery were closely acquainted. But they couldn't be, could they?

"It's a pleasure to meet with you again, Remus," Avery said. "I must say I was pleased you accepted the invitation."

"Yes, well, since we had such a pleasant chat the first time around, I figured; why not?" Remus said wryly, and Avery chuckled even as Sirius' eyes grew to slits. They were…joking around? What in Merlin's soggy underpants was going on here?

"I've been thinking about what you said last," Remus said slowly. "And…in many ways, you are right. You know about the new werewolf legislation, of course?"

Avery must have nodded, for Remus immediately continued: "Well, it didn't make me very happy as I'm sure you can understand. While I will never agree with Greyback's methods, I can understand why lycanthropes are driven to join the Dark Lord's service. There aren't that many options for us. The Ministry is not on our side, as the new law proves, and Dumbledore can only do so much… Change is needed, and if the Dark Lord is the one who will bring those changes about…"

Sirius couldn't believe his ears. Remus was agreeing with Voldemort? And since when did Remus say the Dark Lord, rather than his name?

'_There must be some sort of logical explanation,'_ Sirius thought desperately. _'Remus must be playing Avery…' _But despite the faith he had in his friend, Sirius couldn't help the doubt. _'But you can't spy on the Dark Lord without being discovered.' _And then, Regulus' last note flashed past his mind's eye:

…_Things are not always what they seem, nor are the people you surround yourself with and trust. It's something I learnt the hard way, and I only hope you won't be exposed to the same sort of betrayal…_

"What are you trying to say, Lupin?" Avery asked, even as Sirius' hands clenched.

"That maybe the Dark Lord is right after all," Remus said. "While I hate all the death and the fighting, you're right that war demands sacrifice. And our world needs to be shaken up by its foundation." Sirius heard Remus take a deep breath, and to Sirius, it sounded as though he was preparing himself for letting out something big, something he had been carrying around for a long time: "I'm tired of being looked down upon and suppressed even when I've done nothing to deserve it. I'm just as good a wizard as anyone else, even better than some. All I want is equality, and some fairness!" Remus finished with quite a loud exclamation, and Sirius felt his heart sink.

It couldn't be an act. At least not completely – no one was that good of an actor, not even Remus, who had fooled many a professor back at Hogwarts with his innocent expression and kindness. What Remus had told Avery just now…he believed every word he had just said. It was how he felt. And Sirius couldn't even blame him. Things were terribly unfair towards werewolves. But never had he believed Remus, sweet Moony, would ever find things desperate enough that it drove him to Voldemort. Yes, Sirius had doubted his friend's loyalty a tiny bit - but it had never gone past doubt – until now.

Sirius was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Remus and Avery finish their meeting and leave, his chance of interrogation gone. And neither he nor Remus noticed the smirk the Death Eater threw in Sirius' direction, a pleased glint in his eye: the first step in his master's real reason for trying to recruit Lupin had been set.

Doubt. Suspicion. They were powerful weapons of destruction, and his Lord was not above using them. After all, why waste time and effort on eradicating a group when they could do it just as well themselves. Once the trust was gone within the Order of flaming chickens, so was their power. After all, with no trust, how could they possibly function?

* * *

"Didn't you hear me?" Sirius exclaimed, slamming his fist against the Headmaster's desk. "Remus was in Knockturn Alley – with a Death Eater, chatting, like old friends, and agreeing with his views!"

"I heard you perfectly well, Sirius," Dumbledore said, looking at Sirius over his half-moon glasses. "But I do believe you are overreacting."

"_Overreacting?"_ Sirius exploded. "Overreacting? Remus is having secret meetings with a high-ranking Death Eater, and you think _I'm _overreacting?"

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded serenely. "I believe the disappearance of your brother is making you see more than what is necessarily there." Sirius gawked. "Remus has my absolute trust. I believe in him, as should you. He is your friend, is he not?"

"Yes," Sirius muttered through gritted teeth.

"Then, shouldn't you give him the benefit of the doubt?" Dumbledore questioned. "Jumping to conclusions can be a terrible, dangerous thing, Sirius. Remus is working on my orders."

"Then you're putting him in danger," Sirius said. "No one spies on Voldemort and gets away with it."

Dumbledore sighed. "We are at war, Sirius. All of us are in danger. And believe it or not, Voldemort is not all-knowing, and I trust Remus to handle this. I do think you are underestimating him. And I am not forcing him to do this for me; it is entirely voluntary."

Sirius looked away, his jaw tense. He wanted to believe Dumbledore, he did. And hearing that Remus' meeting with Avery was due to his orders made him relax slightly – perhaps he _was_ overreacting. But that nagging sense of belief that he was right to question this wouldn't go away. Remus had sounded utterly convinced in what he had told the Death Eater…what had been real and what had been acting? So Voldemort wasn't all-knowing… Was Dumbledore? "I still think you should be more concerned about this," Sirius said stubbornly.

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled. "And I think you should take some time to let yourself unwind," he advised. "Go home. Get some sleep. Grieve for your brother."

"This is not about my brother!" Sirius shouted, standing up from his seat so fast the chair fell over. "I know what I heard, and I know what I saw in that meeting, and it wasn't just an act. I know there must be something more going on, and if you won't take me seriously, I guess I'll just find some proof, and if that doesn't convince you, perhaps the Ministry will be willing to listen! I can't afford to mindlessly place my faith in people, not even my friends, if there's even the slightest chance I'm wrong. There's a war out there and people are dying!" He stormed out of the office, slamming the door close behind him, and Fawkes let out a sad thrill.

"Yes, I do believe you are right, dear friend," Dumbledore said, slightly worried about the Gryffindor's state of mind. "Sirius does seem a little unhinged at the moment. But considering the loss of his brother, it is understandable. I'm sure he just needs some time…"

* * *

**10 March**

"You seem sad," Buffy noted, kissing him on the cheek and handing him a piece of chocolate cake on a plate. "What's wrong? It's your birthday; you're supposed to be happy!"

"I am," Remus said, smiling at her.

Buffy raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Uh-huh. You can't fool me anymore, remember?" She tapped the side of her head with a finger meaningfully. "Built in Remus-radar."

Remus sighed. "Right. Well, I guess I am feeling a bit down…" He glanced to the left, where Sirius stood.

"Want to talk about it?" Buffy asked. Since her and Remus' new connection was revealed, she had been a lot more receptive to his moods. Rather than pushing for him to talk, like she would have just a year or so ago, she asked him first. It was like she knew when he had something he wanted to speak about and when he would rather be left alone. Or maybe she was just growing up and growing out of her 'I need to know everything about everyone' phase. Of course, this worked both ways as well.

"I'm not even sure what's wrong, exactly. It's probably nothing…"

Buffy didn't say anything, only leaned her head on his shoulder. For several seconds, they shared a companionable silence – there were more of those now too. It was like they had suddenly bonded on a deeper level, as though they understood each other better, without words. Finally, Remus spoke up again: "It's Sirius. I can't help but get the feeling he's angry at me for something. He's been staring at me, all night, in this really creepy way."

Buffy glanced over discreetly to where Sirius stood with James, talking. Only, he didn't seem very interested in the conversation, and, to her surprise, saw he was indeed looking in their direction every few seconds or so, his expression one of displeasure and suspicion. She frowned. "Huh. I wonder what's up with that… Want me to ask him?"

Remus shook his head. "No. If there's something he wants, he'll talk to me about it, sooner or later. I don't want to push him, considering his brother's disappearance."

"Alright," Buffy nodded in agreement. "I'll leave you boys to deal with it your way."

Remus chuckled, trying to ignore the uneasiness he felt from the negative emotions Sirius was expressing in his direction. Normally, he probably wouldn't have noticed the hostility as such – just the looks – but with only three days to the next full moon, his senses were on edge, and so was Moony: And his wolf did not like the aggression it felt directed at him, and saw it as a blatant challenge of his authority.

Remus sighed, and took a large bite of chocolate cake. Chocolate always made him feel better.

* * *

**15 March**

James woke up to someone placing soft kisses all over his spine and shoulders, and groaned, eyes fluttering open in slight protest. "Too early," he slurred. "Lemme sleep."

"You might as well wake up. You've got work, remember, and your alarm clock will blare in ten minutes anyway, and isn't this a much nicer way to wake up?" Lily asked teasingly, nibbling lightly at his neck.

James sighed. "Mmhmm," he mumbled in agreement, slowly rolling over on his back, coming face to face with a mischievous looking redhead. "Morning."

"Good morning," Lily said.

"I can't believe how cheerful you are in the morning sometimes," James grumbled, slightly jealous.

Lily giggled, leaning down above him on her elbows, one on either side of his ribcage. Placing a soft kiss on his lips, she grinned widely. "One of us has to be."

James sat up, grabbing her waist tenderly. He still couldn't believe how lucky he was, sometimes. Married to this amazing, beautiful woman; the love of his life. And he was falling even more in love with her every day. "You're wonderful, you know that?" He said.

Lily blushed. It didn't happen all that often, but sometimes, James woke up, and was in an incredibly romantic mood, flattering her with statements such as that in a very matter-of-fact way. It embarrassed her, but she also treasured it. It made her love him even more than she already did. "You too."

James grinned. "But of course."

Lily rolled her eyes. And then he always ruined it with his ego…but she loved it.

The blaring of the alarm clock broke the romantic mood that had settled in their bedroom, and with a growl, James shut it off. "We have time for a quickie before we have to go to work," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Lily snorted. "Not today," she said, standing up from the bed and heading towards the adjourning bathroom. By the doorframe, she paused, and looked at James over her shoulder. "But if you're lucky, I might come find you during your lunch break…" Winking suggestively, she danced into the bathroom, shutting the door, leaving a gawking James staring after her.

"Vixen," he muttered, falling backwards down on the mattress.

"James, are you there?" His father's voice was heard coming from the living room, and quickly, James pulled on a pair of sweatpants and headed out.

"Dad?" He kneeled in front of the fire, confused. "Why are you flooing so early?"

Harold Potter sighed. "I wish there was an easy way to say this, but there isn't. James, son…your mother is dead."

James paled. "W-what?" He croaked out. "Dead?"

"It was painless," Mr. Potter assured him, dragging a hand through his hair tiredly. "She passed away peacefully in her sleep, sometime during the night."

"I-I don't understand," James muttered, shoulder's slumping. "Why?"

"James?" Lily entered, wearing a dressing gown and a concerned frown on her face. "Is something wrong?"

"Lily," Mr. Potter greeted, sadly. "I trust you'll look after James today. May I suggest you both call in ill?"

"Yes, of course…but…what's going on?" Lily was thoroughly confused.

"I will let James explain," Harold said, forcing up a smile at the redhead.

"Explain what?" James asked, voice deadened. "You haven't told me anything!"

"I-I will talk to you more about what happened and why later, James, but not now, please," his father almost begged. To Lily, it seemed as if the older Potter was only barely holding it together. "Bye." The floo-connection shut down, and Harold's head disappeared.

"James?" Lily asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "What has happened?"

"My mum," James whispered hoarsely. "She's dead."

Lily's eyes widened. Lorraine was dead? "How?"

James chuckled humourlessly. "I don't know. Dad wouldn't tell me. Just that it happened in her sleep."

"Maybe he doesn't know either," Lily tried to comfort. "And he must be incredibly upset."

"I-I should floo over there," James muttered, walking over to the mantle to grab some floo-powder.

"I think you should stay here," Lily said. "Let's go back to bed, James, please?"

James took a deep shaky breath. "No, I-I need to see her…see for myself…"

"I think your father wants to be alone for awhile, James," Lily said, trying to keep calm. "He seemed very upset – "

"And I'm not?" James spun around, hazel eyes wide. "My mother is dead!"

"I know that!" Lily exclaimed. "But this is not just about you, it's about your father too and you need to respect that maybe he needs to grieve alone before you come bursting in. I know it's your mother, James, but it's his wife too. How would you feel if it was me who was dead? Wouldn't you want to be by yourself for awhile?"

James nodded, and then crumbled to the floor, bursting into tears as what he'd just found out sunk in for real. Lily sank down beside him, hugging him tightly as he broke down, her tears mingling with his.

* * *

**18 March**

"Hi, dad," James said slowly, coming to stand beside Harold, father and son looking down at the newly erected gravestone.

"Hi, son," Harold said, putting an arm around his shoulder.

"Are you ready to talk about it yet?" James asked after several moments of silence, as the two grieved together for the woman who had given them so much.

His father sighed. "When are you ever ready to talk about the death of the one you love?" He said mirthlessly. "I hope you never have to experience it, James. The death of the one you love above all others, before your own occurs, leaving you alone, with a hole in your heart where she used to be...an empty side of the bed, where she used to lie..."

James lowered his head.

"Lorraine had been ill for awhile," Harold finally said. "Quite some time, actually. The Healers said there was nothing they or we could do about it."

"You knew she was dying, and you didn't tell me?" James asked, incredulous, staring up at his father with a wounded expression.

Harold smiled sadly. "How do you explain something like that, James?" He asked. "Even if you had known...you still would have been unprepared for when it happened. I was, and I was there, watching her condition deteriorate, expecting it...and yet, it was totally unexpected."

"You should have told me," James whispered, wounded.

"It was her decision," Harold said. "She didn't want to worry you. Parents do everything to protect their children. Someday, when you have a child of your own, you'll understand that."

"Sometimes, secrets do more harm than good," James countered, angrily wiping away a tear from his cheek.

"I'm not disagreeing with you," Harold said. "But that doesn't change the fact we kept it from you because we love you. The moment you hold a child – _your _child – in your arms, instincts come to life, and you want to shield it from everything bad in the world. And then the child grows up, and you realize you can't. But nonetheless, you try. Sometimes, you fail. Sometimes, things go wrong. But it doesn't matter. All that matters is the love you hold for your child, and the instinctive need to protect it from all the horrific things out there, with all that you are. Even if you lose your life in the process, or perhaps even the love the child holds for you."

James sniffled.

Sirius slowly approached. "Hi, Mr. P," he muttered.

"Hi, Sirius," Harold said, and then, encircling both boys in his arms – both his sons, in a way – he hugged them tightly against his chest, kissing both their heads, all three united in their grief.

* * *

**27 March**

"James, you have another birthday card," Lily noted, throwing an envelope in her husband's direction. It was almost two weeks since his mother's death, and James was coping about as well as could be expected. He wasn't moping about or crying all the time, nor did he pretend everything was fine: he took one day at a time, trying to go about his life as normally as possible, yes, but he didn't deny he was sad.

Things hadn't become easier when, three days after the funeral, his father had told him he had the same illness that had taken his mother. Lily hadn't spoken to him about it, respecting his need for space, and meaningless words of comfort wouldn't help. She did her best to just be a silent pillar of support. But she knew her husband was hurting.

To lose his mother and then find out he would lose his father before too long as well...it must be extremely difficult for him. Understandably, James had spent a lot of time with his father at Potter manor since he found out, often flooing over in the afternoon after work.

"Thanks," James said, slitting the envelope open and eight tickets fell out.

"What is it?"

"It's from Nick and Michaela," James said, and he looked slightly more cheerful as he read the letter from his two former team-mates. Both had graduated the same time as him and Lily, and had chosen to play professional Quidditch after school – last time James had seen the two had been at his wedding reception. "They're wishing me a happy birthday, and hope I can come to their match with the Appleby Arrows against the Wimbourne Wasps in May." He picked up the tickets, grinning.

"Well, that was nice of them," Lily said, having always liked Michaela, even if the two girls never had been all that close at Hogwarts, considering Micha had always been more interested in sports than her. "We'll have to ask our friends and see if they can come."

James nodded. "I'm sure they can. Sirius certainly won't say no, and Buffy won't either, if I know her right. And I'm sure Peter and Remus will want to come as well."

"We can make a day out of it," Lily said, enthused. To her surprise, she was quite excited: she had never seen a professional Quidditch game before, and since her old classmates were on the team, it made it all the more special. That Michaela's and Nick's unexpected gift had been able to put a genuine smile on James' face didn't hurt either.

* * *

**2 April**

Sirius stared pale-faced at the letter he'd just gotten by owl from his mother. The letter didn't make much sense – filled with rambles about Regulus, about him, about the Black family in general, and things that had no basis in reality. But what he was able to make out among all the nonsense was that his father was dead. And the funeral had been yesterday – obviously, Sirius hadn't been invited.

It was also made clear Walburga blamed Sirius for Orion's death: she was convinced that it was grief over the loss of his son – his real, true, loyal son – that had killed Orion. Walburga was calling Sirius' negative influence on Regulus the reason he had disappeared – that if it weren't for him, Regulus would still be alive, and Orion wouldn't have died as a consequence.

And Sirius couldn't help but feel there was a lot of truth in it.

His family was falling apart. His brother – missing, probably dead. His father – dead. His mother – clearly approaching insanity. Himself – Merlin, he didn't even feel like he knew the status of his own life. Everything was so confusing. He was being thrown loop after loop, and he wasn't sure how much more he could handle. All he knew was that he was at least partly to blame for his family's current misery.

After all, hadn't the split begun after he ran away from home? What would be different if he had stayed? Probably. If he'd been there, maybe Regulus never would have joined the Death Eaters in the first place. His brother would be alive. And his family would be whole, not broken.

* * *

**13 April**

James sighed as he stepped out of the floo into Potter manor. His day had sucked – and even if it was Friday the thirteenth, no one was as unlucky as he had been.

He had screwed up practically all the spells they were learning at the Academy, gotten his paperwork all mixed up, tripped on his own two feet and landed - flat on his face - in front of a gloating Lucius Malfoy. And, to top it all off, he'd also accidentally cursed Moody in the butt during a training exercise. The chew-out he'd gotten in return had not been fun, nor had the duel the old Auror had challenged him to in order to teach him to look where he was aiming: needless to say, Moody had kicked his arse.

Truth be told, he hadn't been doing his best at work like usual ever since his mother died. James just felt as though he couldn't quite focus on anything. He was looking forward to spending the evening with his dad though – James had always been close to his parents, though since he married Lily, they hadn't kept in touch as much as before: even with him at Hogwarts, James had always written letters, and of course, he and his parents always spent Christmas and summer together.

"Dad?" James asked, looking around with a frown. Since he found out his dad had the same illness that had killed his mother, he always flooed over directly after work. Harold knew that and was usually there to meet him by the fireplace. Now, however, he was nowhere to be seen, and James had the horrible feeling his day was about to get even worse.

Hurriedly, James worked his way through the large building, room by room, until he finally came to his parent's bedroom. "No…" His father was lying on the floor, unmoving, and quickly kneeling beside him, James checked his pulse, only to find there was none.

James's shoulders slumped. "I thought we had more time…" He whispered to himself.

For several moments, he just sat by his father's body, staring, holding his hand in his and feeling it grow cooler beneath his touch. He couldn't have been gone long before James arrived. Finally, he let it go with a sigh, standing up to make his way back to the floo to make the appropriate calls, tears blurring his vision.

Friday the thirteenth, indeed.

* * *

**14 April**

"What's the letter about?" Lucan asked Mandy as he heard Mandy's sigh as she put the letter down.

"More bad news," Mandy said. "Mr. Potter has died, too. The funeral is tomorrow."

"Are you going to ask professor Flitwick and the Headmaster if you can go?"

"I think so," Mandy answered. "I mean, Mr. and Mrs. Potter practically raised Sirius. Merlin knows they were better parents then his actual ones. And since I wasn't able to make it to Lorraine's, I should be there for him this time. I should try to talk to him about his brother's disappearance as well. He hasn't been very open about it in his letters."

Lucan frowned. "It's not like last time, is it?" He asked. "I mean, he's not ignoring you, or treating you like a stranger?"

Mandy shook her head in assurance. "No. He's really making an effort, I can tell, but he does sound a little distant. Sad. I understand that. It seems like the bad things are just arriving one after another. First Regulus, then Sirius dad, James' mum, and now James' dad too…" She sighed.

Lucan put his arm around her in comfort. "Well, while things seems tough right now, they'll get better. I mean, at least they can't get much worse, right?"

Mandy snorted. "I wouldn't bet on that, if I were you." She sighed. "I just feel so helpless, you know? Logically, I know there was nothing I could possibly have done to prevent all the bad stuff that has happened to my friends lately, but…I feel so cut off from everything, stuck at Hogwarts."

"It's not that long until Graduation," Lucan reminded.

Mandy sighed. "Yeah…except I'm not really looking forward to that anymore either. If I'm going to become a curse-breaker, I may have to leave the country! If I think I'm cut off from things here, it's nothing compared to what I'll probably feel if I end up in…I don't know, Egypt, or something!"

"At least you'll be safe from the war there," Lucan said.

"Yeah," Many let out a breath she'd been holding. "It doesn't seem to be ending anytime soon, does it? And I feel like I should be helping in that too!" She exclaimed. "I just know my friends are involved, and what kind of person am I if I just up and leave?"

"A smart one," Lucan drawled. "Come on, M. You can't be seriously suggesting you want to get involved in that mess? Let others fight."

Mandy glowered at him. "And hide like a coward?"

"All I'm saying is that it's not our war," Lucan defended himself.

"Of course it is!" Mandy said, rather loudly. "Everyone is involved, whether they like it or not. No one is safe."

"That may be so, but there's no reason to make oneself an even bigger target," Lucan said. "If your job forces you out of the country, I think it's a good thing."

"I suppose we'll just have to agree to disagree then," Mandy said, turning her face away, frowning. She couldn't believe Lucan's standpoint on this! Well, actually, that wasn't true – she could – it wasn't uncommon at all. But she hadn't realized Lucan was one of those who thought that way.

"I suppose we will," Lucan said calmly, and then sighed. "Don't be mad, Mandy, please. There's a reason we're in Ravenclaw and not in Gryffindor, you know? We have a little something called _self-preservation."_

"Well, maybe I'm more Gryffindor than I thought, then," Mandy said. "Because I don't think turning a blind eye to what's going on out there is right."

"I'm not turning a blind eye," Lucan said. "I know very well what's going on out there. I'm just making an informed decision to trying and stay out of it."

"That makes it even worse," Mandy muttered. "I should go to talk to Flitwick about arrangements for tomorrow," she stood up, abruptly changing the subject.

"Well, see you later," Lucan said. "I'm going to take a walk with Belinda."

"You do that," Mandy said, still mad, though she knew it was unfair of her to act like this just because Lucan didn't agree with her. Not everyone was cut out for fighting. To be honest, she wasn't sure she was either, but she knew she wanted to do _something _to help. Though she didn't know what. "Time will tell, I suppose," she mumbled to herself, before standing up to follow Lucan and apologize. She had acted like a prat, after all.

* * *

_**Published: **__03/11 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- According to J.K. Rowling, both of James' parents died from a wizarding illness.


	19. Soaring

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**16 April**

"And here we are," James said, letting his wand drop to his side causing the boxes he was levitating to fall gently to the floor. "Home. Well, sort of." He frowned. "It feels weird, being back to live here permanently again. I've come to see Godric's Hollow as our home."

The two Potters had decided to move back into James' childhood home, the Potter manor in Jersey, after James' father passed away, for many reasons: the main reason was the many layers of protection on the building, whereas Godric's Hollow was left very exposed in comparison. The other reason was that, traditionally, the manor was the home of all the Heads of Potter - a title James now found himself in possession of due to the passing of his father.

Lily smiled at him as she stepped into the entrance hall behind him. "Well, you are the Head of your house now. Isn't it more fitting to live in the manor? Besides, it is much better warded, and Godric's Hollow is still ours. We can use it as summer-vacation house, if nothing else."

James sighed. "Yeah...I know."

"You should lie down and get some rest," Lily told him. "You've had a trying couple of days...the will-reading...the funeral... I'll unpack our stuff."

"Rest sounds wonderful right about now, but I can't," James sighed. "I've got so much to do. Paperwork to look over...contact our solicitors...check what our assets are...make sure the things that Sirius inherited are transferred to his vault... Resting can wait. My parents made sure to prepare me for the position of head of the Potter family – whose members are now officially just you and me – but we always figured that was still many years away, and I feel quite lost right about now."

"I still think you should get some rest, clear your head some," Lily advised. "All the things you just mentioned...they can wait."

"No, I just want it done," James shook his head.

"If that's how you feel, I'm certainly not going to stop you," Lily said, walking over to him and leaning forwards until their foreheads touched. "Just know that I'm right here if you need help with anything. I'm known for being quite intelligent," she smiled. "And promise you'll get some rest after, alright?"

"I will," James promised, picking up a briefcase from the floor. "I'll be in my dad's office."

"I'll let you know when dinner's ready," Lily said, looking around the large room, not quite certain where she should start. Even now, after having visited the manor several times, she was still blown away by the sheer size of it. "I suppose I better get to work," she muttered to herself, placing her wand behind her ear absently as she opened one of the boxes to check its contents. "Books...I suppose they should go to the library..." She mused. "If I can find it... Is the library at the right or left side of this floor?" She yelled after James. "I can't remember!"

"Neither," James yelled back, glancing over his shoulder at her, amused. "It's at the top-floor, remember?"

"Oh...right," Lily mumbled, embarrassed that she'd forgotten. The Potter library was, after all, huge, and took up half the top-floor, each room the base for different categories and genres. She had been very impressed when she saw it when James had first showed her around during her first visit here – Christmas, seventh year. It seemed so long ago, now...

* * *

**20 April**

Entering the Lupin cottage – _their_ home; their house – God, Buffy still couldn't get used to that, even after all this time – after a long day at work, Buffy immediately looked around for Remus presence. But just like almost every day lately, he was nowhere to be seen.

Sighing, she made her way to the kitchen with a frown. Remus was almost never home before her anymore, even though he didn't have a job. She was becoming more and more curious – and frankly, worried – about what her boyfriend was doing for the Order and Dumbledore that took up so much time.

The emotions she got from him due to their pretty newly discovered empathy toward one another didn't make her feel better. Remus always felt troubled, guilty, anxious, stressed and tired, and the fact that he wouldn't talk to her about it made Buffy twice as concerned.

Something else that the empathy had helped with was her patience – perhaps Remus' patience was influencing her previous lack of. While Buffy would have pushed and pushed until he spilled just a few weeks ago, she wasn't, this time. This time, she wanted him to come to her on his own terms. However, if this continued for much longer, she knew she couldn't – _wouldn't_ – stay out of it. Remus' mission was beginning to affect his wellbeing, as well as their relationship, in a very negative way, and Buffy was determined not to let either deteriorate further.

She respected the Headmaster, but she also knew it was probable he only saw the bigger picture – not the pieces within. Buffy also knew Remus too held great respect for Dumbledore and felt like he owed him for giving him a place at Hogwarts when he turned eleven, and as such, would never say no to anything he asked for. But Buffy had no such qualms, and would, if she felt it necessary.

The Wizarding World might be at war, and she might be the Slayer, but she also knew that if it came down to choice between the world and those she loved, there was no question where she would stand. It might not be very logical, considering they were _part_ of the world, but it was how she felt. As the Slayer, she had had to make sacrifices – would probably have to, in the future as well – but she wasn't willing to sacrifice anyone or anything.

Perhaps that was what made her such a good Slayer – her love, and her passion for her friends and family – however, Buffy also recognized that which made her strong, also made her weak – and she only hoped her enemies wouldn't figure that one out. She had managed to stay under the radar so far, but Buffy knew her day of revelation was fast approaching. She only hoped she would be ready when it came.

The outer door could be heard opening and closing, and Buffy walked back out in the hall, coming face to face with an exhausted looking Remus.

"Trying day?" She asked, leaning against the doorframe, and Remus looked up with a weak smile.

"You could say that," he said, taking off his cloak...a hooded one, which Buffy hadn't seen before.

She bit her lip. "Look, Remus, I haven't said anything before because I wanted to give you a chance to come clean about whatever it is you're doing for Dumbledore... And I'm really trying not to interfere – but I'm worried."

"You needn't be," Remus assured her, turning wide, innocent eyes in her direction. "I'm fine."

Buffy was not impressed. "That look might have worked on the professors at Hogwarts, but I'm your girlfriend, and not as easily fooled. I'm not gonna stick my nose in it...but...just promise you'll be careful."

"I always am," Remus stated calmly, walking past her into the house.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "What you – and Sirius and James for that matter – consider being careful, others consider being reckless. And I'm usually up for that sort of behaviour, but there comes a point where a line has to be drawn."

"Are you going to lecture me?" Remus looked at her over his shoulder with a grin.

"No," Buffy said impatiently, not buying his carefree act for a second. "I just want you to slow down a bit. Take a step back. I'm not asking you to stop your mission. All I want is for you take it easy. Be home at a reasonable time. Stop the nightly expeditions – "

Remus looked surprised, and Buffy gave him a wry smile. "You think I don't notice when you get up and leave in the middle of the night? Please. I'm the Slayer. And even if I didn't wake up by you leaving, I would have noticed anyway – I don't need much sleep, and am usually awake but faking sleep through the majority of the night, unless I'm out patrolling."

Remus gave her a sheepish look. "Why didn't you tell me that you knew?"

Buffy shrugged. "Like I said, I don't want to interfere. Anyway, stop the nightly expeditions, or at least cut down on them. Unlike me, you need your sleep, probably more than most, considering your monthly transformation takes a lot out of you." She sighed. "Whatever you're doing for Dumbledore isn't worth your health and your life, you know," she said gently.

"What I do is important, Buffy," Remus said with a sigh.

"And I don't doubt that," Buffy told him. "Just...try to be home more often. Talk to me."

Remus looked slightly guilty. "I'll try," he finally promised, disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door.

"And that's all I can ask for," Buffy whispered tiredly to the now empty corridor. She felt...superfluous, sometimes. Even if she was a member of the Order, and part of the war, she wasn't all that good at magic. She didn't feel comfortable fighting with it – or against it – most of the time, despite the practicing she'd done with Sirius, and later, her other friends, while at school. Especially not since what had happened to her after the attack on James, which had left her morals adrift and herself approaching a point of no return. She was fine now, but it had left Buffy even more certain fighting with magic wasn't for her, and had in fact, made a conscious decision to stop, unless she had no other choice.

She had decided to focus on being a good Healer and Slayer: the problem was that there hadn't been any vampire attacks – that she knew of before they happened so she could be there – other than those on her own self, and if she met werewolves on the battlefield, Buffy wasn't all that certain she could kill them. They were mostly human after all, and killing a werewolf when she was dating one felt wrong. She just wished she could do something more...help, somehow.

Buffy sighed. This world really wasn't keeping her Slayer-side and Slayer-needs all that occupied so far and she lacked a good challenge that involved kicking ass, rather than cursing it. Oh, of course she didn't wish for any attacks...but there was only so many night of patrolling the surrounding areas and cities without _anything_ happening that she could stand without going insane.

* * *

**7 May**

"Excited about the Quidditch game?" James asked his friends with a grin. Everyone was gathered at Longbottom manor for the Order meeting this time, and where, as per usual, relaxing and talking while they waited for Dumbledore to arrive so it could start. "It's going to be one hell of a match!" And it was: the media had buzzed about it for months – the rivalry between the Appleby Arrows and the Wimbourne Wasps was legendary, after all, and both were in a good position to win the League Cup of the year. Neither team having lost a match so far.

The Wimbourne Wasps were slightly ahead in statistics, not only in previous Cup wins, but also due to the amount of goals scored and their team line up. But the Appleby's had the slight advantage of the game being played at their home-turf; fan-support should never be underestimated.

"About that, Prongs," Remus said quietly. "I wanted to thank you for giving two tickets to the Lowells. Jasper and Will are really excited they get to go." Remus and Buffy still kept in touch with Jasper, the young werewolf they had taken in for a short time, and as a result, also with Samantha's family who had welcomed him into their fold afterwards. From the regular letters both Jasper and Mr. Lowell sent, it was clear the lycan was settling in very well and he and Will were two peas in a pod, it seemed.

"No problem," James said. "Since Mandy is stuck at school, and I had no idea whom to give the final ticket to, it seemed like the perfect solution."

Remus smiled. "Well, I was just going to say I'm going to give my ticket to Samuel."

"Whatever for?" Lily asked, startled. "Don't you want to see your old classmates play? While I'm sure Will and Jasper would like to be able to see the game with their father, I'm just as certain they would like to see the game with you as well. Jasper is missing you and Buffy both, isn't he?"

"Yes," Remus said. "But he likes living with the Lowells. And the game is the day after the full moon, and I think I'd rather stay home and rest."

"Oh, I didn't consider that," James said with a frown. "Do you think Jasper will have the strength to go?"

"There shouldn't be a problem," Remus said. "He's a lot younger than me, and his shifting doesn't take as much out of him. He has accepted that he is a werewolf – probably due to his upbringing in the wild with Greyback – so it doesn't hurt him as much."

"The Lowells are going to be at the game?" Peter asked with wide eyes. He hadn't seen Samantha's family since her funeral, nor did he have any wish to. If he had known, he never would have accepted the ticket! While he didn't feel any guilt over Samantha's death (she had made her choice, and so had he), he still had no wish to be around her family. Especially considering what the Death Eaters had planned for the match…

It had been decided during the latest Death Eater meeting that the highly anticipated Quidditch event would make a perfect target. By that time, Peter had already accepted James' invitation, and had planned to just slip away into what was sure to be a mass-panicking crowd when the Death Eaters revealed themselves, and then join them, but now he had to reconsider.

Perhaps it would be better if he didn't watch at the game at all and instead were with the Death Eaters from the very beginning…the chances of him being discovered by one of his friends would certainly lessen. "I-I don't think I can go," he said, lowering his head.

"Oh, Peter," Buffy sighed. "You know the Lowells don't blame you at all for what happened to Sam, and neither should you. They know you loved her."

Peter's shoulders slumped. "I know that," he said, trying to sound sad. "But I don't think I can face them…not yet. They remind me too much of Samantha. Seeing her family would just bring everything to the surface again. I'll never be able to move on."

His friends exchanged glances over his head. "Well, it's your choice, of course," Sirius said. "Isn't Caradoc an Appleby Arrows fan?" He asked.

Buffy's eyes shone with mirth. "Yes…but it's supposed to be a closely guarded secret. His image would be destroyed if, God forbid, anyone found out he's a closet Quidditch fan."

Everyone sniggered.

"I'll ask him if he wants to go," Buffy continued when their chuckles died down. "Discreetly, of course, so I won't embarrass him. I think he likes me."

"Caradoc doesn't _like _anyone," Sirius scoffed. "Least of all you. He_ might_ respect your abilities, but that's all."

Buffy sniffed. "I disagree. Caradoc and I have a beautiful friendship."

Remus patted her back consolingly. "If you say so, darling." He was clearly humouring her.

"We so do!" Buffy protested. "He secretly likes my personality, and I get his grouchiness. It's a thing."

"I hate to break it to you, Buffy, but Caradoc finds your personality annoying," Lily told her with a grin.

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "He likes me," she repeated stubbornly. "And he just pretends to find me annoying because he can't let it be shown he has feelings of endearment towards my witty character, amazing puns, American accent, not to mention my kick-ass moves and my sense of fashion which is beyond reproach."

The others rolled their eyes and Buffy pouted. "I'm gonna go talk to Caradoc now. He appreciates me. And someday, I'll prove it – no, better yet – _he'll _prove it."

"Want to bet he runs the other direction?" Sirius asked James who grinned.

* * *

"...And I believe that concludes the meeting," Dumbledore said cheerfully.

"Perfect timing," Frank said. "My mother will be back in an hour."

"Oh, we better leave quickly then," Fabian said with a grin.

"Yeah. Mrs. Longbottom is even scarier than our sister Molly, and believe me, that's saying something," Gideon finished.

Alice rolled her eyes, though secretly, she agreed. Augusta Longbottom could be one scary woman, as the old lady had proven when Frank had first introduced her. She had never been so terrified in her life!

"Actually, I have something I want to say," Moody said. "You kids are going to that Quidditch match that's talked about every hour on the Wizarding Wireless?" He asked, looking in the Marauders' direction.

"Yes," Lily said, with a frown, even as Sirius mock exclaimed: "You listen to the WW? Wow, Moody, you can still manage to surprise me!"

No one noticed Peter tense slightly – had Moody somehow found out about the planned attack?

"A couple of our friends from Hogwarts play first reserves for the Appleby Arrows," Lily continued, ignoring Sirius, and Moody's death glare in his direction. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I'm sure you've all heard about Ludo Bagman," Moody said gruffly.

"Who hasn't?" James asked with a scoff. Ludovic Bagman was one of the most talked about players within the British Quidditch League right now: both the media and the public loved the up-and-coming star Beater playing for Wimbourne Wasps.

"Since you have friends on one of the teams, I wouldn't be surprised if you get invited to meet the players either before or after the game," Moody said gruffly, and Sirius and James exchanged excited looks: they hadn't even thought about that! "I want you to watch what you say should you get to meet Ludo."

Sirius frowned. "Why? Isn't that overly paranoid, even for you? I mean, he's a Quidditch player, not a Death Eater."

"Actually, I wouldn't be so sure of that," Edgar Bones commented and Moody nodded in agreement.

"You can't be serious!" Lily gaped. "He seems completely guileless!"

"That may be so, but watch what you say around him. His father is an old friend of Augustus Rookwood, who is a suspected Death Eater, and, we suspect, also a part of Rookwood's – and by extension, You-Know-Who's – intelligence network."

"Why don't Sirius and I know about this?" James asked. "We're Aurors, shouldn't we know this?"

"Some information is very sensitive and classified," Frank said kindly. "Just because someone is an Auror, doesn't mean they can be automatically trusted. That's no slight against you and Sirius, of course, but you're only hearing about it because you're also Order members."

Alice continued: "As Aurors, you're still trainees, and as such, barely eligible for any information unless absolutely necessary or part of any missions we give you."

"I suppose I understand that," James said, nodding. "I promise, we'll watch our tongues, right, people?"

Those going to the game – minus Caradoc, who, while he had accepted the ticket, was not about to reveal that fact to the rest of the Order members – nodded.

"Well, then," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "Now, I think the meeting is – "

"Not quite," Buffy stood. "I have something I want to say too." Remus gave her a surprised look. "You all know I'm the Slayer, of course," Buffy continued nervously. "But what you may not know is that I've been feeling a little useless lately. I am the Slayer, but a Slayer with practically nothing to fight."

"What are you talking about?" Caradoc asked with a roll of his eyes. "We're at war – there's Death Eaters a plenty for you to curse."

"For _you_ to curse, you mean," Buffy corrected. "I'm not used to fighting with magic, against human beings, and I don't want to, unless I have no other choice. I fight monsters. But, as some of you witnessed during the attacks on London and Plymouth last September, the Death Eaters aren't used to how I do battle either. And I believe that if you're willing to let me train you in my style of fighting – the up-close and personal style – we will stand a better chance against them. They'll never see it coming!"

Some of the Order members looked intrigued, but some were a lot more reluctant. "It is true it would be an advantage that could help us out of a tight spot," Edgar said, "but I believe we're better off just focusing on getting better at what we're already good at. What you've proposed might work once, maybe twice. But once the Death Eaters get used to it...do you really think they'll let us get close enough?"

"I'm not talking about switching magic for karate," Buffy said. "I'm talking about using both. What if you lose your wand? And, no offense, but, the Wizarding World as a whole is rather lazy. You don't have any sports, other than Quidditch, you use magic for practically everything! And while I've read your magic also keeps you in average shape to counteract the lack of exercise, you could become even better! Better strength, speed, stamina, reflexes – you'd last longer than the Death Eaters! When they get tired, you'll still have strength to go on. It won't happen overnight, obviously, but if you're willing to work for it..."

"While I like the idea," Moody said, "which has promise, I think I'll vote no for this. I'm too much of an old dog to learn new tricks."

"Does no one want this?" Buffy asked, incredulous. "This could help us!"

"I'm with Buffy," Lily said, and James, Sirius and Remus nodded, so did Frank and Alice.

"Obviously, it would take up a lot of time," Alice said. "But I think the idea has merit. We should incorporate physical fighting in the Auror training regime. And I think we in the Order should definitely give it a shot."

"I also think it is a good idea," Dumbledore said. "However, I also realize, as Alice pointed out, it would require a lot of available time for training, which we do not have at the moment. Considering the assigned missions, not to mention everyone's regular jobs, make it difficult to schedule normal Order meetings, I fear there is no time to assign to this, Buffy. However, if you are willing to do this in your spare time, outside of meetings, with the members willing and able, of course, you are more than welcome to."

Five minutes later, everyone left the manor, including Remus and a disappointed Buffy. "I think it was a great idea," he told her.

"Maybe I shouldn't have called them lazy," Buffy muttered. "Do you think I put some of them off?"

"It's nothing against you," Remus said. "But lack of time is a problem. And you could use some practice in diplomacy. The ending was great, but the beginning and middle could use some work."

Buffy sighed. "I just want to feel useful."

"You are," Remus assured her. "Never believe otherwise. And I'm willing to let you train me. And I'm sure Lily, James, Sirius and Peter are up for it too, and Alice and Frank seemed willing. Maybe we can work some sort of schedule out."

"Yeah," Buffy mumbled. "I just got so excited, you know? It didn't even cross my mind that no one would be interested."

Remus slung an arm over her shoulder. "Some of them were. And give the rest some time to think about it. Bring it up again in a few weeks – maybe they'll be more open to it then. The Wizarding World doesn't deal with change very well, and usually needs a long period of adjustment when anything new is introduced – it's quite set in its ways.

Neither he nor Buffy noticed the alarmed and then suspicious look Sirius sent in Remus' direction when he heard the final lines of his speech, eerily similar to something he'd heard his friend say to Avery... Remus hadn't lied then – it was what he believed. And if he hadn't lied about that...was it such a stretch to think he had told the truth about the rest as well?

* * *

**13 May**

About two hours before the Quidditch match was to begin, Lily, James, Sirius, Buffy, Caradoc, Jasper, Samuel and Will Lowell came to the stadium. There, they were immediately greeted by Michaela and Nick. "Hi!" Michaela said with a bright grin. "I'm so happy you could make it."

"Of course we did," James said, shaking hands with Nick. "You sent us the tickets."

"Are you excited for the game?" Nick asked Will and Jasper, kneeling down by the young boys who looked rather star struck.

"Yeah!" Jasper exclaimed, and Will nodded furiously in agreement. Nick chuckled, ruffling their hair and standing up again. "If you'd like, you can run and meet the other players," he told the two. "Both teams still have fifteen minutes before warm-up, so feel free to run out on the pitch and talk to them."

"Oh, can we dad?" Will asked, excited, looking up at Samuel. "Please?"

"Why not?" Samuel said, taking Will's and Jasper's hand and leading them out on the pitch. Caradoc looked longingly in the direction they'd disappeared, and Buffy rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure the offer extends to you as well, Caradoc," she said, amused.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly," Caradoc muttered, flushing slightly, though his darting eyes deceived his desire.

"Just go!" James and Sirius told him, practically pushing him towards the pitch, and the normally sour Order member needed no more encouragement, practically skipping away.

"I must say I'm a little bit surprised," Michaela commented, glancing up at Nick. "When we sent you those tickets, we expected you and Lily, Sirius and Mandy, Peter and Samantha and Buffy and Remus to come," she said to James.

James, Lily, Sirius and Buffy exchanged uncomfortable looks. "Well, Mandy couldn't get away from school," Sirius said. "And...Samantha is dead."

"Bloody hell!" Nick exclaimed, shocked, Michaela's eyes widening. "I had no idea!"

Lily smiled weakly. "And since Will and Samuel are Samantha's father and brother, Peter didn't feel like coming... He's still really torn up about it and was afraid things would be uncomfortable."

"I'm so sorry," Michaela told them. "I didn't know Samantha very well, but Peter and her always looked so perfect together!"

"What about that other kid, Jasper?" Nick asked.

"He's an orphan Remus and I took in for a short time," Buffy said. "He lives with the Lowells now."

"Where is Remus, by the way?" Michaela asked. "Have you two broken up? Is...Caradoc, was it? Your new boyfriend? He seems a little...old?"

Buffy choked as James and Sirius hooted with laughter. "Caradoc is NOT my boyfriend! Just a friend. And a really big fan of the Appleby's. Remus is ill, so he gave his ticket away. We're still together, don't worry."

"Well, give him our best, will you?" Nick asked. "Speaking of Remus...he's ill quite a lot, isn't he? At Hogwarts, he seemed to be down with something at least once a month or so."

"Eh..." James stuttered, exchanging an awkward look with the others.

" – Bad immune system!" Buffy hastily said.

"That would explain it, I guess," Michaela frowned. "But I think there's a potion to permanently cure that nowadays."

"Eh..." it was Buffy's time to stammer.

"He's allergic to one of the main ingredients," Lily cut in. "Anyway, we should all get together for dinner sometime soon, to catch up," she quickly changed the subject.

"That's a great idea!" Michaela exclaimed, before glancing at her watch. "Anyway, Nick and I should probably get going. Warm-ups are about to start. We'll talk more after the game, of course!"

"Are you two playing today?" James asked.

"We don't know," Nick said thoughtfully. "We're not in the first line-up, obviously... but since we're first reserves, if someone gets injured, we'll have to play, of course. And if we're in the lead, even if someone isn't hurt, our coach may let us play towards the end of the game. Personally," his eyes glinted, "I hope I get to play just to get the satisfaction of sending bludgers at Ludo Bagman."

"Not a big fan?" Sirius asked, amused, and also remembering the warnings regarding Ludo from the Order meeting.

"Not in the least," Nick sad, and Michaela nodded in agreement.

"He's so nice in public, you know?" She commented. "But out of it..." she shuddered. "He really looks down on people he considers below his standard, and expects everyone to know who he is and lick his boots or something. Not to mention that he's also _stupid._ Some of the things I've heard coming from Bagman's mouth at different Quidditch gatherings...I would bet he's taken one too many bludgers to the head a couple of times, because I swear, some of his brain-cells must be loose."

Sirius, James, Lily and Buffy sniggered.

* * *

Buffy was amazed at the atmosphere in the packed stadium – the fans were screaming and clapping wildly, flags and banners being waved around, great sparks of magic flying through the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen...welcome to one of the most highly anticipated Quidditch matches in this year's Quidditch League – the WIMBOURNE WASPS versus the APPLEBY ARROWS!"

If Buffy had found the screaming loud before, it was deafening now, as the two teams flew onto the pitch, soaring several feet above the ground, as the expert commentator introduced them, one by one. Loudest were the cheers for Ludo Bagman, who waved back heartily.

Buffy snorted as she saw the uniforms the Wimbourne Wasps were dressed in: Quidditch robes with horizontal yellow and black stripes with a wasp on the chest. It looked ridiculous, and the fashion-queen in Buffy protested heartily. She much preferred the robes of the Appleby team: pale blue, emblazoned with a silver arrow. At least they didn't hurt her eyes.

"The Wimbourne Wasps is the favoured team, with better odds in the betting pools," the commentator continued, "but we've learnt to never underestimate the Appleby Arrows who have the advantage of being the home-team tonight! Both teams are in the running for the Quidditch League Cup, and this match will determine which stand a better chance of winning. And now, please welcome our referee, esteemed member of the European Association of Quidditch for many years, Sean Smith!"

A broad-shouldered wizard with thick brown hair, wearing robes in bronze, walked out onto the field. Around his neck hung a silver whistle and he was also carrying a large wooden box around one arm, his broomstick held under the other.

In the meantime, the first line-up for the team got into their starting positions above Smith, the second- and third-line players and the reserves descending back to the ground to settle on the benches at the end of the pitch, among them Nick and Michaela.

Buffy watched in anticipation as Sean mounted his broomstick and opened the crate by kicking at it with his leg – the Quaffle burst into the air, along with two bludgers and the winged Golden Snitch, which immediately took off, disappearing out of Buffy's sight.

Smith put his whistle in his mouth, and let out a loud breath, and the whistle let out a loud, penetrating noise – the referee shot off into the air after the balls, and both teams flew into action.

"And the game has begun!" The commentator yelled. "The Appleby Arrows take possession of the Quaffle - it's Michaels! Bolt! Simmons!"

The match continued, the players barely a blur out there, as they flew back and forth across the pitch with the Quaffle. The bludgers were almost impossible to discern as the beaters hit them at full strength, and Buffy was amazed at the difference between this and Quidditch at Hogwarts. It was incomparable!

"Sure you're not having second thoughts about accepting one of those Quidditch offers, Prongs?" Sirius yelled at James, before cheering as Appleby Arrows scored.

"Maybe a little," James shouted back. "But...no, not really! This is wicked, though!"

Caradoc was on his feet along with Jasper and Will, all three screaming themselves hoarse. Caradoc in particular – he certainly wasn't holding back on the expletives whenever something happened on the pitch that he didn't agree with: "DON'T FLY THAT WAY! BLOODY MORON! SIMMONS IS FREE! TAKE LEFT! LEFT! WATCH OUT FOR THAT BLUDGER! OWW...NO! ARSEHOLE! TAKE THAT BROOMSTICK AND STICK IT UP YOUR ARSE, BAGMAN!"

The game continued for several hours – the snitch had been spotted only once – and the group had had to take several food breaks. Both teams had switched their players several times as well, to let the starting line-up rest and give the other players a chance to play. The Appleby Arrows were in the lead by 190 points – it wouldn't matter if the Wasps got the snitch first if it continued this way.

Bolt, one of the Chasers for the Appleby Arrows, got taken out by a bludger from Ludo Bagman, and the Appleby coach signalled to the referee who blew his whistle.

"A time-out has been requested and approved," the commentator spoke. "...A short debate is now going on... The Appleby Arrows are switching two players! Lisa Bolt is out, and so is Derek Carthridge, one of the beaters: he has performed slightly below usual standard tonight, not standing a chance against Ludo Bagman, and perhaps that is why Coach Adams is letting him sit the rest of the game out... Give them a warm round of applause, ladies and gentlemen!"

The stadium was again filled with clapping as Bolt was carried out off the pitch on a stretcher, and Carthridge landed, settling down on the bench.

"Replacing Carthridge and Bolt are Nick Vandom and Michaela Duncan, two new recruits to the team, and first reserves! Both almost fresh out of Hogwarts, it might be seen as a surprise that Adams are picking them and not two of the more seasoned players at his disposal from the other two line-ups... But since the Appleby Arrows are in the lead, perhaps he wants to see what they have to offer!"

The roar from the box Buffy, James, Sirius and Lily were sitting in was deafening, as they stood up, shouting their appreciation for Micha and Nick. "I can't believe they'll get to play!" Lily yelled, grinning widely.

"The game resumes! Michaels has the Quaffle, passing to Duncan, who passes back to Michaels, back to Duncan, passing to Simmons, to Duncan...score! The Chaser is off to a great start!"

The game continued for another two hours, the Arrows keeping their lead. "And the Snitch has been spotted!" The commentator roared. "Morse and Fell are in close pursuit... A nicely aimed bludger from Vandom steers Fell off course..."

That's when it happened. A green light struck Morse, who immediately dropped from his broom. A complete silence surrounded the stadium, and then, pure chaos, as at least thirty Death Eaters entered the pitch on broomsticks, and several more suddenly revealed themselves among the audience.

"DEATH EATERS!" The commentator yelled, in panic. "DEATH EATERS EVERYWHERE! MORSE IS DEAD! FLEE! FLEE FOR YOUR LIVES – " His shout ended in a gurgle as he was hit with a curse that slit his throat.

The Order members exchanged panicked looks, and then, they jumped into action. "Lily, Sirius, get the Lowells out of here! And contact the Order and the Aurors!" James commanded, and then began to rush down the benches with Buffy and Caradoc, trying to reach the Death Eaters.

Buffy's heart was pounding wildly. This was not what she had had in mind for today! "Watch out!" She yelled, pushing Caradoc out of the way of a curse, which instead hit her arm, slicing open a rather shallow wound – luckily, it had barely grazed her.

"I'm going to see if I can commandeer a broomstick!" James yelled, and then he was gone, lost in the panicking crowd.

Buffy and Caradoc had reached the pitch – most of the Quidditch players for both teams were doing their best to fight back (though Buffy saw Ludo Bagman cowering under one of the benches), but they were outclassed and outnumbered, and so was the crowd that was desperately trying to escape.

That which had been a highly enjoyable game was rapidly becoming a bloodbath.

* * *

_**Published: **__17/11 -10_


	20. Falling

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

Adrenaline was pumping in James' veins as he reached the Quidditch pitch – out of the corner of his eye, he saw Buffy and Caradoc: Buffy's arm had just been sliced open by some sort of curse, but apart from that, she seemed fine.

Seeing Ludo Bagman whimpering beneath one of the benches, James threw him a disgusted look, grabbing the beater's broomstick and took to the sky, arriving in the midst of all the Death Eaters on their own brooms, shooting curses at both the players and the crowd.

Nick and Michaela zoomed towards them, wand outstretched, a grim smile on their faces. "One hell of a match, huh?" Michaela quipped, sending off a silent _'reducto'_ at one of the cloaked figures in the air, Nick taking care of another one.

"Happy to see you're both alright," James answered, doing a loop in the air in order to curse a Death Eater rapidly approaching them from below.

It was a lot more dangerous up here, in the skies, than it would have been in the bleachers – if you were hit with a curse that would normally be non-fatal, chances were you'd still be falling to your death soon afterwards.

"Is this what you face on a daily basis with the Aurors, James?" Nick asked, sending off a spell at a Death Eater trying to approach Michaela from behind.

"Well, normally, we're on the ground," James smirked.

As the three former Gryffindor Quidditch team members continued to curse everyone wearing a silver mask and black cloak several feet in the air, down below at the pitch, Buffy and Caradoc were fighting their own battle against the Death Eaters.

"I'm not wearing the right clothes for this," Buffy muttered in annoyance as her skirt once again got in the way. Quickly, she reached down and opened a long rift in it, allowing her to move around more freely, nailing one Death Eater with a hard kick to his throat.

"Why are you wearing a skirt in the first place, woman?" Caradoc snapped, while spinning around and enveloping three Death Eaters in a dark cloud of magic that made them fall to the ground, choking for breath. "This is – _was_ – a Quidditch game, not a fashion show!"

Buffy glared. "Oh? So now it's forbidden to look good while watching sports?"

"No one bloody cares _what _you wear!" Caradoc shouted in annoyance.

While bodily picking up a Death Eater and throwing him at two others, Buffy smirked. "Apparently, you do," she said smugly, and Caradoc's eyebrow twitched in annoyance. "Stand still," she added, and Caradoc threw her a perplexed look.

"Whaa – ow!" Buffy had jumped upwards, using Caradoc's shoulders as support as she vaulted over his head, landing on his other side so they stood back to back. Incidentally, while straight above the Order member's head, she had also kicked a Death Eater soaring on a broom above them between the legs, causing him to fall to the ground.

"Thanks!" Buffy chirped at Caradoc, pushing out with an elbow which neatly broke a Death Eater's nose. "Ugly bastard, aren't you?" She commented when his mask fell off

"Next time, give me some warning before you use me as your personal vaulting horse," Caradoc grouched.

Buffy just smirked, falling into a series of kicks and hits as more Death Eaters approached her: apparently, almost none got the idea that getting closer than five feet of her was a bad idea, and that they were better off trying to curse her from a distance – not that she was complaining. And those that _did_ get the idea – well, Caradoc was more than happy to take care of them. "We make a good team, don't we?" She said happily.

Caradoc glowered. "Where in Merlin's pants are all the _sane_ Order members?" He muttered.

* * *

Snape was circling above the Quidditch pitch on his broom, but not joining in with the wild duels taking place – he had seen Potter take flight, and though he would love to curse the annoying Gryffindor to hell and back, Snape wasn't stupid enough to believe he could duel him and win while on a broom. If they ever met with their feet firmly on the ground though...

No, duelling while on a broom was not for him. HOh, he occasionally sent off a deadly curse at those he could see not wearing a silver mask, if they approached him. Not an _Avada Kedavra,_ though. To be honest, Severus thought the Killing Curse was a very crude way to kill...unrefined, too simple, and too painless. No, the spells he was using today were of his own making. He considered this attack a trial run, to see how they did in action.

His main orders though were to observe the results of the attack and the report back to the Dark Lord, who was in a foul mood: lately, the Dark Lord cursed anyone who so much as breathed wrong, doing random Legilimency attacks on all his followers, clearly not trusting them... And Severus knew it was all due to Regulus' betrayal.

The Slytherin didn't know the circumstances; he only knew Reg had taken something the Dark Lord needed, and it had led to his death. _Of course_ it had led to his death. No one betrayed You-Know-Who and got away with it, after all, and Regulus' death had forcibly reminded many Death Eaters of that fact.

Snape was actually sorry the younger Black was gone – he was one of very few Death Eaters he had actually enjoyed talking to, with a wit and intelligence matching his own. He would love to know what had made Regulus do such a stupid thing as stealing from the Dark Lord. Had he actually thought he could get away with it? He must have known how it would end. But then again, Regulus was Sirius' younger brother – perhaps the Gryffindor tendencies were genetic.

He sighed, bored. The Death Eaters were clearly winning, a lot better organized than in previous attacks, their aim surer. Another thing Reg's death and the Dark Lord's nasty disposition had led to was motivating what remained of his followers: failure was not an option.

His eyes narrowed as he suddenly saw a very familiar blonde he recognized from Hogwarts – Summers. Snape had hardly been able to believe the stupid Gryffindor had survived the vampire attack when the Dark Lord told him – and it had earned him a curse for underestimating her. He owed her one in return. Getting ready to curse her from afar, his eyes suddenly widened and he lowered his wand as he took in what the blonde was doing: she was fighting Death Eaters – physically, no wand in sight.

What in bloody hell was going on here? From the fluid and easy way she moved, it was clear she was no beginner. And yet, her small, thin body should not make the force with which she was hitting the Death Eaters possible, especially not without any sign of tiring.

It wasn't natural.

Suddenly, it became clear how she had managed to take on four vampires and live, and Severus wondered just how badly he had misjudged her. This was no innocent, dim-witted girl – oh, he hadn't been wrong in thinking her near a squib – she was fighting like a muggle, after all – but it was becoming clear Buffy Summers was a warrior, one used to combat.

The Dark Lord would be very interested. Regretfully, he decided killing her now wouldn't earn him any favours – the Dark Lord had wanted her alive until he figured out the mystery that was Buffy Summers...and to be honest, now, after seeing her in action, he too wanted to know what her secret was.

Suddenly, he heard a voice – one that often occupied his dreams and thoughts – yell out: "James!" And his head snapped away from Summers and landed on a red-head that to this day made his heart clench. Lily.

Lily was here.

Snape's stomach churned as he saw the beautiful girl – no, woman – approach the pitch, Black right behind her. What the hell was she doing here? She was supposed to be safe!

But then, he saw Potter land beside her, and it all became glaringly obvious. When he saw Potter was here, he should have realized Lily would be as well. Of course she would be at a Quidditch game. She had married a Quidditch maniac, after all.

Suddenly, his hatred for Potter grew even further. He was putting her in danger! He ignored the voice that said she wouldn't be in any danger if it weren't for them attacking. Flying closer, so he was almost directly above his former schoolmates, he raised his wand again, getting ready to hit him with one of his own spells - _Sectumsempra._ Killing Summers might be out, but the Dark Lord had said nothing about killing Potter...and now, with the Gryffindor back on the ground, he had no reservations about doing so.

* * *

"Lily, what in Merlin's pants are you doing here?" James yelped, quickly landing his broom, when he saw her showing up at the pitch. "I thought you and Sirius were going to get the Lowells to safety and contact the Order!"

"And we did," Lily said. "Now we're back."

"You should have stayed with the Lowells were you'd be safe!" James snapped. "And where is Sirius anyway? Why isn't he with you?"

"We have a right to help just as much as you do," Lily exclaimed. "And Sirius stayed to help in the fight within the stands."

"Less bantering," Buffy yelled from beside Caradoc, hitting a Death Eater with an uppercut to his jaw, "more duelling!"

"_Less banter,_ Summers?" Caradoc snarked. "And that's coming from you? Rather hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Well, my banter is part of my power, and I know how to use it," Buffy said sweetly.

"Honestly, you two!" Lily exclaimed, standing beside James, the two duelling the Death Eaters swarming the pitch for all they were worth. "Look out!" She suddenly yelled, as she saw a curse stream in their direction from above, sent by a Death Eater on a broom. James spun around, eyes widening as he saw the curse, and threw himself to the side – the curse graced his face in a flash of light, though, causing a deep gash beside his right eye, and he yelled out at the somewhat familiar pain: had he been hit with that curse before?

While ducking, his attention had been pulled away from the Death Eater he had been duelling, who was now pointing his wand at James, who was lying defenceless on the ground. _"Avada Ke – "_

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ Lily snapped out quickly, green light leaving her wand, killing the Death Eater instantly when it hit, and interrupting his own spell-casting, leaving James' safe. James stared up at her in astonishment – Lily too looked completely shocked at what she'd done, and didn't notice the entrail-expelling curse flying at her back. "Lily, duck!" James yelled, pulling down Lily with one hand, raising his wand with the other. _"Glacius! Reducto!"_ The Death Eater froze to ice, and then, was blown apart, when the Reducto curse hit him.

Both Lily and James stared at each other wide eyes.

"Get up you two!" Caradoc yelled. "No time to lie about if you want to survive!"

The command snapped the two Potters out of their stupor and they stood up on shaky legs, rejoining the battle. Above, Snape's eyes flared in displeasure when he saw his curse hadn't done any fatal damage to Potter. Just like when he had cursed the infuriating Gryffindor with the same spell after their OWLs, he walked away with just a scratch, fixable, not lethal, since the spell had only grazed him. And Lily...sweet, innocent Lily...she had killed today – for Potter, of all people!

Flying back to his observation point, Snape cursed Potter's existence. Why could things never go his way, for once?

* * *

Peter wasn't a particularly good flyer, nor a very good duellist. That's why he tried to stay as inconspicuous as possible, just helping if it seemed a Death Eater was losing. Besides, he didn't want to go anywhere near his friends – what if he lost his mask? Everything would be over.

He spotted his former classmates, Michaela Duncan and Nick Vandom, fly above the playing field, two of few Quidditch players still involved in the tussle going on in the air: the others had either landed to fight on firm ground, or been killed. Michaela was duelling Crabbe and Goyle, and he wondered why the two had chosen to become involved in the aerial battle rather than the one on the stands – they weren't known for being particularly graceful, and both looked terribly out of place on their brooms.

When Goyle was hit with a curse that almost made him fall off, Peter decided he had to get involved. Flying towards Michaela's unprotected back, he raised his wand. _"Diffindo!"_ He yelled, and Michaela steered her broom in his direction, surprised. As it was, if she had stayed with her back turned, she might have lived: by veering, the severing charm hit her throat instead of her shoulder, severing her carotid arteries and jugular vein. Michaela raised her hand to her throat in obvious surprise – and then she was falling.

"_Micha!" _Nick let out a piercing cry as he saw Michaela get hit, and immediately began to dive. But it was too late – she was falling too fast, and he was too far away. He blocked away the image of blood – too much blood – spewing out from her neck. She was okay. She had to be okay.

Lily, James and Buffy stared in undisguised horror as Michaela hit the ground with deadly force, her head flopping to the side, revealing her slit throat.

Peter allowed himself to feel a very small amount of regret, at the death of his former classmate – but it had been her choice to get involved, and the guilt quickly dissipated as he flew away from the scene, along with Crabbe and Goyle. "Nice work, Pettigrew," Goyle said gruffly in a near whisper, and Peter grinned. With the Death Eaters, his abilities were recognized, at last – quite different from the Marauders.

The pitch suddenly became filled with Order members and people clad in Auror robes. "Retreat!" Someone yelled, and all the Death Eaters disappeared.

The three friends barely noticed, their eyes stuck on their dead former classmate, Nick, now having landed, sobbing beside her, inconsolable, as he tried to wake her up. But it was no use.

She was gone.

* * *

"Are you four alright?" Alice panted, running up to Lily, James, Sirius and Buffy. James finally tore his eyes away from the body of his formed Quidditch teammate to meet her eyes.

"Could be better," he mumbled.

"We should have considered this match might be a Death Eater target, considering all the media coverage," Frank said regretfully as he walked up along with Moody and Edgar Bones. "We could have stationed Aurors around the stadium – Order members too, for that matter."

"No use crying over spilled milk," Moody said grumpily.

"Spilled lives, you mean," Edgar commented, sighing as he looked around the pitch, taking notice of all the dead bodies. "Such a waste..." He shook his head in sadness.

"Hey! Prongs!" Sirius ran towards them from the stands, blood dripping from a wound on his temple. "Are you alright?"

"Micha is dead," James told him quietly.

"Bugger," Sirius muttered, glancing over at Nick, still bent over Michaela's still body.

"You're bleeding," James said, pointing at Sirius head.

"So are you," Sirius noted, and startled, James touched the skin beside his right eye, his fingers covered in blood as he pulled away.

"I almost forgot I even got hit..." He mumbled, remembering the familiar pain as the curse reached his face.

Buffy appeared, carrying a conjured cloth, which she placed gently against Sirius' wound. "I would heal you, but I think you should probably put some anti-infection cream on it first," she advised, before turning to James, frowning as she took in the gash on his face.

Conjuring up another cloth, she placed it against it. "I'm not sure why that hasn't begun to clot yet," she commented. "It's deep, but quite small...it shouldn't be bleeding so much."

James froze. "Snape..." He muttered, realizing why the curse that had hit him had felt so familiar – he _had _been hit with hit before, while at Hogwarts.

"What?" Lily asked, grabbing his elbow. "What about Severus?"

James shook his head. It had taken ages for Madam Pomfrey to heal the wound last time, and then it had just been a surface scratch: the wound he had earned today could still be considered a scratch, but it was slightly deeper. "I'll tell you later."

"You should head to St. Mungo's and get that looked up," Buffy told James, sighing. "Boy, am I glad Remus wasn't here in this mess."

Sirius frowned. "Yeah...lucky..." His mind whirled. Maybe _too _lucky. Quite a coincidence, that the full moon just happened to be the day before so he would have the perfect excuse not to go... And Remus had known the game was the day after for ages, and still he had accepted the ticket: he had only given it to Samuel a week before. Could it be he had only given the ticket away because he found out there was going to be an attack? Had he known? Inwardly, he shook his head. No...Remus wouldn't betray them like that. And yet... the conversation he had heard between Remus and Avery reared its ugly head again.

"Sirius? Are you listening?" Alice asked gently.

"Huh? What?" Snapped out of his thoughts, Sirius looked up.

"I said that if you're up for it, we could use some more help gathering the dead and assembling witness reports from the crowd. Consider it Auror overtime," Alice said.

"Oh, right. Of course. No problem," Sirius muttered, pushing away the suspicion in order to focus on the here and now. But it didn't disappear.

* * *

**14 May**

The next day, an exhausted Lily and James entered Potter manor after a long night spent at St. Mungo's. After the attack, the two Potters had remained behind, helping the Aurors and the Order with the cleanup, as well as transporting all the wounded to the hospital.

Once the last injured person had been taken there, they had remained at the hospital, waiting for James' turn to be treated: he had insisted on being last, since the cut on his face was nothing compared to some of the other injuries, even though it had stubbornly refused to stop bleeding.

When the turn finally came to James, the Healer in charge of his injury had been quite bewildered, since such as small wound should have stopped bleeding long ago – and yet, it had taken all his effort to close it, and a reddish scar remained. The Healer had told them he was sure it would fade, but hadn't looked all that certain – perhaps due to the difficulty of fixing it. Usually, he had said, an injury such as James' should have been fixed in a matter of seconds, and yet, he had had to work on it for over an hour.

"Home sweet home," Lily said, shivering slightly as they stepped into the entrance hall, smiling weakly. Now, back in the silence of their home, the shock of the battle began to catch up with her. After the last battle she had been in, when James had been so terribly injured, she had been far too caught up in her worry for her husband to let her thoughts linger on the fact that she had actually participated in a fight – that she had killed people. Now, however...

As if sensing her thoughts were beginning to turn dark, James put his arm around her, leading her into the spacious living room. A wave of his wand lit the fire in the fireplace, and then they sat down on the sofa, curling up together. "I killed someone today," Lily said numbly, staring straight ahead into the burning coals.

"Me too," James said, pulling her closer, shuddering as he remembered how the Death Eater had looked as he died, exploding into pieces, as his Reducto-curse hit his frozen body. He'd been so caught up in worry for Lily that he hadn't even thought about the huge amount of power he put into the spells until after they had left his wand... '_Glacius'_ and_ 'reducto'_ wouldn't have caused that Death Eater to be blown apart so completely, if not for him overpowering the curses. And James wasn't sure whether he'd done it unconsciously or on purpose.

"But you didn't use an Unforgivable," Lily whispered brokenly.

"True...but if you hadn't, I might be dead now," James reminded her.

"I could have stunned him!" Lily snapped out. "Or used another spell. There were lots of options. So why did I choose that one? Why the Killing Curse?"

"I don't know," James answered honestly, and then fell silent, not knowing what to say to make Lily feel better. The best thing to do might be to let her work out her own thoughts.

"I just...I just felt so _angry,"_ Lily admitted, her voice a bare whisper. "Seeing that Death Eater, pointing his wand at you...about to kill you... I wanted him dead. I didn't want him to stop; I wanted him gone. I've never felt like that before. So...furious. And then..." She shuddered. "You can't imagine it, James. The rush you feel when that curse leaves your wand... It's so horrifying, and yet so intoxicating – addictive, even." She looked up at James, her green eyes filling with tears. "And even after I'd killed him...I felt _happy. _Happy that he was dead, happy that I had been the one to kill him. And for a few seconds after, I wanted to feel that rush again...use the curse again..." She closed her eyes.

"And now?" James asked, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. Naturally, he knew about the addictive properties of the Unforgivable curses – that was why they were forgivable, after all, considering there were many spells with the same effects as them. But James couldn't _know _what it felt like to use one of them – he didn't want to know. And now, Lily did.

"And now I just feel sickened," Lily swallowed heavily. "I want to _not _want to feel that way again. But it's still there...the longing for that rush."

James let his grip around her shoulders tighten, and he placed a kiss on her head. "It won't go away," he said, trying to remember what he'd read about the long-term effects an Unforgivable had on the caster. "At least, not for a long while. But I believe in you, Lils. You can conquer it."

"What if I can't? What if I become a bad person?"

"You won't," James said firmly.

"But how do you _know?"_ Lily asked, looking up at him again.

"Because I know you. And I love you," James said, placing a soft kiss on her chapped lips. "As long as we have each other, neither of us will fall into darkness."

Lily stared up at him thoughtfully. "Love conquers all, huh?" She asked, half-joking, and James nodded. But even as she said it, warmth spread through her chest, and some of that longing disappeared, becoming bearable, almost forgotten, as it came up against the overwhelming love she felt for James and her friends. Lily smiled, then, as she felt new hope. She had always believed in the power of love, as cheesy as it sounded. But now, she believed in it more than ever. Snuggling into her husband's warm embrace, she sighed, content that everything would be alright.

James sighed as well, happy that Lily seemed eased, at least for the moment.

"I just remembered," Lily mused, after several more moments of long, comfortable silence. "After the battle...you mentioned Severus."

James inwardly cursed himself for that slip: the last thing he wanted was to worry and upset Lily even more now, when she finally seemed calmed. But he also knew he couldn't lie to her. "The curse that grazed my face and caused the cut...I recognized it." He took a deep breath. "I am almost certain I have been hit with it before...while at Hogwarts. After taking our OWLs..." He gave Lily a long, searching look, trying to see if she remembered. He did, of course: How could he forget?

That day, after taking their OWLs, had been when Lily's and Snape's friendship began to come to an end – when he'd called her mudblood, and James had threatened to remove Snape's pants... Merlin, he'd been such an arrogant toe-rag; nothing more than a conceited prat, and Lily had been right to despise him.

For a few seconds, Lily's expression was one of confusion, and then, it dawned on her. "Severus hit you with a curse... and the one that hit you yesterday...was the same one?"

"I'm almost certain of it. The way it felt...the flashing light...the difficulty to heal it...it was the same."

"So you're saying you think Severus cursed you?" Lily asked, not wanting to believe what her husband was implying. "It makes no sense! Anyone could have thrown that curse."

"Lily..." James pulled his fingers through his hair. "The Healer didn't know what sort of curse could have caused that kind of wound. It wasn't just any spell, which anyone knows. And you were Snape's friend. You know how much he liked to create his own spells."

Lily looked away. "And you think the spell that hit you was one of his." James was unfortunately right. Severus had loved spell-creation, as well as experimenting with potions. He had showed her quite a lot of them – but none had been dangerous, but Lily wasn't a fool; just because he hadn't showed her spells she would doubtlessly disapprove of, didn't mean he hadn't created them.

"Yes."

"I don't want to believe he would ever join Voldemort," Lily finally said, after a long pause. "And I don't want to believe Snape cursed you yesterday. If you hadn't thrown yourself out of the way...you could have been killed!"

"And you don't think Snape is capable of murder?" James asked, slightly harsher than he meant to. "You might have been his friend at Hogwarts, Lily, but Snape wasn't an innocent victim. I'm not defending who I was back then – far from it; I was a bully, I know that, and a lot of the things I did to him were way out of line. But Snape wasn't a saint either, and he did a lot of bullying of his own when you weren't watching.

"But murder?" Lily questioned weakly.

James smiled bitterly. "Lily...Snape was in love with you. _Is_ probably still in love with you. And I was his bitter nemesis at school, _and _I married you. You tell me."

A single tear slipped from Lily's eyes. Neither she nor James could of course be certain that Severus had been the one to curse him – even if Snape had made the spell didn't mean he hadn't shown it to someone else, just as capable of casting it. But she couldn't deny what James had said: she knew all too well of the feelings Severus harboured for her. If given a chance, to get rid of someone he probably saw as the rival for her affections...would Snape take it? Unfortunately, as much as she still liked Severus, and treasured their friendship, Lily knew the answer to that question in all likelihood was yes.

* * *

**20 May**

"Nick..." James walked forward, hesitantly, putting a hand on the shoulder of his former teammate, who stood silent, staring at the stone adjourning Michaela's grave. A few feet behind them stood their former Gryffindor teammates from Hogwarts – those still in school, for example Amanda Lorne, had been given special permission from the Headmaster to be present at the funeral.

Beside them stood Lily, Buffy, Sirius, Remus and Peter, as well as Nick and Michaela's teammates from Appleby Arrows – that is, those who had survived the attack at the game, and had recovered sufficiently to attend; less than half. "I am so sorry. I know how you must be feeling - "

Nick snorted. "Empty words, and you know it, James. How could you possibly know what I feel? It's not like you have lost Lily."

"Micha was my friend, also," James reminded him. "And I do know; perhaps it is not exactly the same, but I lost both my parents not so long ago."

"We were going to get married," Nick said, sounding lost. "What now? What next?"

"You go on with your life, I suppose."

"I don't think I can ever look at a broomstick again, without remembering her falling," Nick admitted, sinking down on his knees. "Much less play. I see no joy in it anymore. What's the use? It's just a ridiculous sport. A sport that killed her." He clenched his fists angrily.

James threw his friends a worried look over his shoulder, before settling down beside him. "It wasn't the sport that killed her," James reminded him. "Death Eaters did."

"You-Know-Who..." Nick whispered, lips pursed. "It's his fault." He took a deep breath. "Do you remember that speech you did, at school, in the Gryffindor common room?" He asked James. "I do. It was slightly cheesy, but I remember what you said. That the dead are heroes, and the only way we can honour them is by not giving up." He turned to look at the former Head Boy. "Well, I say You-Know-Who has tickled a dragon, and he is _pissed off. _I won't let him get away with this._"_

"Nick..." James said hesitantly, remembering the speech Nick was speaking off, and the dragon analogy, very well – however, he had a feeling Nick was too caught up in his grief to really think about what he was saying. Nick held up his hand to silence him, as he stood up, back straight, a new fire burning in his previously empty eyes.

"It is as you said, James; _'justice will be served.' _And I can't do that by giving up, or by playing Quidditch."

"And what are you going to do, exactly?" James asked tentatively.

"What you did," Nick said simply. "Join the Aurors. Fight."

"Do you realize what you will be committing yourself too?" James asked. "Nick...take a few days. Mourn. If you still feel the same way, join the Aurors if that's what you want, but don't forget you will be fighting in a war that might kill you! Micha wouldn't want you to throw your life away!" He knew something in Nick must have snapped – changed – with Michaela's death: beater or not, Nick had never been particularly prone to violence – he hated fighting.

"I don't know what she would want! She's dead! So, I might die, it doesn't matter!" Nick's face was scrunched up in pain. "_If I die, at least I won't die quietly, hiding under my bed,_ isn't that what you said, James?"

James let out a noise of frustration. "Yes, but you're not thinking clearly, right now! I was speaking of me, not you!"

"So you're the only person with the right to fight, all of sudden?" Nick asked angrily. "Why can't I help?"

"I wouldn't have a problem with it if the reason you wanted to join the Aurors was to help, Nick – but you're going to do it because of revenge."

"It's as good a reason as any," Nick said, and from the look on his face, James could see his broken-hearted former classmate wasn't about to change his mind. He was inconsolable, and James sighed. Again, he was reminded of how much this war took from people – and changed them. His eyes drifted over to Buffy. She had been fighting since she was little more than a teenager, every night, facing monsters far bigger than her. He wondered what she would be like now, if she hadn't been called: from conversations with her, he knew she had been quite shallow before she became the Slayer. Glancing over at Remus, Sirius, Lily, and his other former Quiddditch teammates from Gryffindor, he wondered – what would they all be like, if not for the war?

* * *

**23 May**

"We will miss you," Buffy told the Lowells. She and Remus were at the London Heathrow Airport to see the Lowells, now including Jasper, off. After the attack at the Quidditch match, Mr. Lowell had had enough of war, which Buffy could understand.

Samuel had already lost his wife and two daughters; it was no wonder he didn't want to stay in a country where the carnage was only likely to grow worse, and risk the lives of himself and his remaining son and foster son.

"Likewise," Mr. Lowell said. "I can't help but feel I'm running away, but at the same time..." He shrugged helplessly. "I'm muggleborn – so was my wife. And my family has already suffered so much because of it..." He glanced over at Will and Jasper, talking to Remus a few feet away. "I don't want to risk their lives as well. If it was only me, I'd probably stay, but I have to think of the children..."

"Samuel," Buffy put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "There's no need to explain. You've lost so much. That you don't want to lose anything more makes more than sense." She sighed. "I know all too well about wanting to run away..."

"Why don't you?" Samuel asked, giving the blonde a scrutinising look. "You're a young woman, with lots to live for. And if I'm not mistaken, you're not from Britain originally."

"You're right," Buffy said. "I'm from America. But Britain is my home now. And there's no running away for me, believe me, I've tried. God knows how much I've tried to escape from battles in the past. But it always finds me, and I've realized everyone is better off if I face them. My destiny lies here."

As Samuel looked at Buffy then, he saw a young woman, but he also saw someone who knew the burden of war and responsibility, and he admired her for it. Buffy smiled at him. "Your destiny is different than mine. I have a responsibility to stay and fight. But you have a responsibility to your son, and to Jasper."

Mr. Lowell nodded. "Perhaps, if both our destinies allow it, we will meet again, someday."

Buffy laughed, turning to look at Jasper. "I doubt Jasper would have it any other way."

Samuel chuckled. "Indeed." He didn't regret taking Jasper into his family for a second. The young boy had brought much well-needed life with him, bringing William out of his slump after the deaths of his mother and sisters. And succeeding in giving him a new will to live.

Remus came over, Will and Jasper walking beside him. "So, Down Under," they heard him ask. "Are you excited?"

William shrugged, looking at Jasper. "I guess." The boy chewed his lip. "Dad said it will be nice to make a fresh start. He has relatives there. I'm sort of sad I won't get to go to Hogwarts, though."

"Oh, you're eleven now, aren't you?" Buffy asked, as they came to a stop beside her and Samuel. "But I'm sure there are many Wizarding School's in Australia as well?"

"I've enrolled both William and Jasper at Aurum School of Magic, in the Wizarding Settlement of Charter Towers, where we're going to live," Samuel said. "It has a very good reputation, and it's not a boarding school, which solves the issue of the full moon." He smiled at Jasper. "And even though Jasper is twelve, since he's born in the winter he and William will be in the same year when they both begin this autumn."

"It sounds great!" Remus grinned at Jasper, who smiled weakly, quite nervous about going to another country. And no wonder, considering the sheltered life he had had before Remus took him from Greyback's camp.

"I'm really nervous," he muttered.

Remus knelt in front of him, taking his hands in his, as Buffy stood behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. The young lycan immediately felt more at ease. "You will be fine. And safe."

"Promise?" Jasper asked, and Remus nodded, grinning widely.

"I promise."

"Will I ever see you again?" Jasper asked next, tilting his head upwards to look at Buffy.

"Most certainly," Buffy swore, even though she knew she might have to break that promise. It was one thing telling Samuel, an adult, that they would meet again – Mr. Lowell was more than aware of how fickle life could be, and both Remus and Buffy were involved in a war. Who knew if they both would survive? And then there was the tiny little issue of Buffy not being from this world – who knew how much longer she could remain? Obviously, she would do her best to stay – but she had a feeling that when the time came, it wouldn't be up to her.

All she could do was hope.

* * *

_**Published: **__01/12 -10_

* * *

**Trivia**

- _Sectumsempra _is first mentioned in _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince,_ and is a spell invented by Snape while at school, for enemies. From the spell description and the remarks made by Snape in the same book, one can draw the assumption that this was indeed the spell he used on James after the OWLs, as seen in _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.  
_- _Glacius_ is a freezing charm from various HP video games. It conjures a blast of freezing air that can freeze several inches of water solid within seconds: when overpowered by James in this chapter, it froze a person whole, showing what James is truly capable of, power-wise, when it comes to magic.  
- The speech Nick talks about is James' rousing speech from _Road of Innocence,_ chapter 27, after a large-scale attack. The dragon-analogy in the speech is, in turn, a reference to Hogwart's school motto, _Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon. _James saw his fellow students as the dragon.  
- Down Under is a colloquialism often used to refer to Australia.  
- Charter Towers is a city in Queensland, Australia, which was founded after gold was discovered there. Subsequently, I named the Wizarding School Aurum School of Magic, since Aurum means gold in Latin.


	21. Beautiful

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**25 May**

"You have been trying to see me, Severus," the Dark Lord expressed, bored.

"For many days now, my Lord," Snape nodded, and quickly kneeled in front of the Dark Lord's chair. "But you have been indisposed."

Red eyes blazed. _"I_ decide when I am available for my followers, not the other way around. Do not presume otherwise."

"Of course, my Lord," Snape said hurriedly and the Dark Lord sneered.

"Why this sudden adamant need to meet with me?" He finally asked. "The attack on the Quidditch game was a success, or so you told me. Unless you forgot to mention something." His tone of voice was threatening.

Snape gulped. "The attack was, indeed, a great victory, my Lord," he agreed. "But I did forget to mention something I observed during it."

"You make me tire of you, Severus," the Dark Lord snapped, standing up from his chair, towering above the still kneeling Potions-genius. "This is your second mistake, the first being your underestimation of that _Summers girl._ I am not known for handing out second chances."

"I apologise, my Lord, but this has to do with her," Severus said quickly. I am hoping what I have discovered will compensate for my past misstep."

"Nothing can make up for a mistake already made," Voldemort said, bored. "But please, continue. If what you have to say is interesting enough, it may lessen your debt."

Lowering his head in submission, Snape began to speak: "During the Quidditch game, I was able to see Summers fight from my vantage point in the air." He paused. "Her fighting skills were, I must admit, incredible."

"There are many incredible witches and wizards out there, Severus," the Dark Lord stated. "And unfortunately, not all of them are on our side. What you have just told me is nothing I had not already figured out: After all, to survive an attack made by four vampires, directed at her specifically, she must be a very good witch."

"But that's just it, my Lord," Snape said, onyx eyes shining. "She isn't. She is a mediocre witch, at best."

"You underestimated her once before, Severus," Voldemort thundered. "And yet you stand by what you said then? That she is not anything special?"

"You misunderstand me," Snape hurriedly said, and Voldemort's eyes narrowed. He, the most intelligent, powerful man in the Wizarding World, misunderstanding _Snape? _Was the man a complete twat? "She is less than average when it comes to magic...but not when it comes to fighting."

"I must admit you have lost me," Voldemort sneered. "How can she fight well if she is horrible at magic? Has the sun addled your brains, Snape?"

"She fights like a _muggle, _my Lord!" Snape exclaimed. "Physically; not with magic. She didn't even use her wand, and from the way she moved, I believe she has been in battle before. She was used to it. It...it wasn't _natural._"

The Dark Lord's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but quickly rearranged his expression to one of neutrality. "I see," he said, now_ very _interested in the mystery that was Buffy Summers.

Who was she? Or..._what_ was she?

"Thank you for this information, Severus. It has been...invaluable."

A smug grin appeared on Snape's face.

"And yet...you should have told me this immediately after you returned after the attack. And I tire of your impudence. _CRUCIO!"_

The Dark Lord stared dispassionately as the former Slytherin writhed on the floor under the Unforgivable, pain wracking his thin frame.

"Leave me," he ordered a few seconds later, after lifting the curse. "And send in Avery. I wish to speak with him."

Snape slowly and painstakingly rose and made a bow in his direction, and then quickly left the summoning chamber. A minute later, Avery Senior arrived, head held high, a neutral expression on his face. "You summoned me, my Lord."

"Indeed." Voldemort hissed. "I am pleased to see you arrive promptly, when requested."

"Always, master," Avery swore, bowing low. "I am one of your most loyal."

Voldemort smiled. "And I do not doubt you. You are, undeniably, one of the few I can really trust."

"You honour me with your confidence, my Lord," Avery said smoothly, a small, smile gracing his face.

"If only more of my Death Eaters were as reliable," Voldemort's eyes glinted. "Now, what can you tell me of your meetings with Lupin?" Voldemort asked.

"Not much, my Lord," Avery senior said regretfully. "Though I have continued to meet with the werewolf as requested, I cannot say any progress is being made. As we suspected, it is becoming more obvious that he is trying to play us, pretending to feel for our cause in order to get information. He has become very...inquiring, lately, digging for details of our activities, both past and future."

"A pity," the Dark Lord tapped long fingers against his armrest. "While I never believed he would join us, if he had, he would have been a great asset. You have not told him anything of importance, I trust?"

"Of course not, my Lord," Avery assured him. "I have told him little can be revealed unless he decides to join us and take the mark, for obvious security reasons."

"And his response?"

"Evasive, but diplomatic," Avery answered. "He is a very good actor; quite slippery in a way that many Slytherins can only hope to achieve."

"Stop arranging the meetings," Voldemort commanded after some thought. "Our goal has already been reached by letting Black overhear one of your conversations: sufficient doubt regarding his friend's loyalties should have been planted. I have better uses for you than a mission with no progress. Lupin's actual loyalty would have been a nice bonus, but we always knew it was unlikely. Let Lupin come to us – give him the initiative, and let us see if he takes it. If that is the case – make it clear that the only way he will be given anything is if he agrees to take my mark. If he doesn't agree – kill him."

"And if he doesn't try to make contact, my Lord?"

"Leave him be," Voldemort requested after a small amount of silence, thinking of Severus' message regarding the strange abilities of the Summers girl. She was...intriguing, and he was determined to either have her on his side, or her head on a platter. Either way, he could use Lupin for it to happen. "If we kill him, our efforts in planting doubt within Black – and by extension, the rest of Dumbledore's Order – would be for naught. And I might have further uses for him."

"As you wish, my Lord."

* * *

**28 May**

"James! Sirius! Can I have your attention for a couple of minutes?" Frank Longbottom waved in James' and Sirius' direction, and the two Aurors stopped exchanging spells to turn their attention to their superior.

"Frank," James greeted, wiping away some sweat from his forehead. "Did we do the drills wrong?"

Frank chuckled. "Far from it. You and Sirius are the two best duellists from all the new recruits, no competition. I wanted to ask you a favour, actually."

"Shoot," Sirius said, and Frank frowned at him.

"Pardon?"

"Shoot," Sirius repeated. "It means _'go ahead.' _American slang. Buffy taught me."

"Alright..." Frank said slowly, chuckling. "Anyway, you know the Auror force is spread pretty thin these days, and the quality on the majority of the recruits is...well, let's just say they're not what one could wish for, considering most of them are those we rejected in the round of testing you two went through." He sighed. "If only more had survived the attacks on London and Plymouth, things would be very different..."

"Things are what they are," James said.

"Quite," Frank agreed. "Well, my point is, we have begun accepting applicants year-round, and the tests are not nearly as thorough as most of us would wish...but desperate times call for desperate measures, I suppose," he said. "There has even been some talk of lowering the standard years of training from three down to two – I don't know if you've heard?"

James and Sirius shook their heads.

"Well, it's just talk as of yet," Frank said. "In any case, that has not much to do with what I came to speak to you about. As I said, the Aurors are spread pretty thin, and we are unable to dedicate as much time training the recruits as before, especially not when new ones show up regularly."

He looked over the large room, inspecting the Auror trainees as they went through their drills almost absently. "I've been speaking to some of the more promising Aurors in training from your recruitment group – Proudfoot, Nolan, Ackerly, and a few others – about them taking one or two new recruits under their wing. I was hoping you two would do the same. But it's a large responsibility; time consuming, and your own training may suffer for it. But then again, maybe not - It is said one of the best ways to learn is to teach it to others, after all."

James and Sirius looked at each other. "We'll do it," James said, for both of them.

Frank looked relieved. "Excellent."

"Who do you want us to train?" Sirius asked.

"It's actually an old classmate of yours," Frank said, and James' eyes widened in sudden understanding. Frank shot him a look. "I see you already suspect?"

"Is it Nick?" James asked. "Nick Vandom?" Frank nodded. "With all due respect, Frank," James said hesitantly, "I don't think he's Auror material. You know what happened to his girlfriend? I fear the reason he joined is because of – "

" - Revenge," Frank finished for him. "I'm more than aware of that. And if there wasn't a war out there, Nick, in all likelihood wouldn't have been accepted, at least not without him being cleared by a mind Healer first. Unfortunately, James, the department can no longer afford to dismiss people who want to be Aurors for such reasons only: there are too few of us. I'm doing what I can by putting both of you in charge of him – I'm hoping, that by putting him with friends, perhaps you can help him more than someone who would just be focused on training him for battle."

Sirius and James nodded. "Well, we'll do our best, of course," James sighed.

* * *

**3 June**

"You look ill," Lucan commented, sitting down beside his friend in Ravenclaw's common room. Mandy looked particularly stressed out: her hair was a mess and she had dark circles beneath her eyes, which seemed reddish, and her nose was swollen.

"Danks for doticing de obvious," Mandy commented, sniffing as she blew her nose in a tissue. "I have a cold."

Lucan placed a hand on her forehead, frowning as he felt how warm it felt. "And a fever. You should go to Madame Pomfrey," he advised. "She'll make you feel better."

Mandy shook her head. "I don't have tibe," she wheezed out through her stuffed nose in a hoarse voice, couching slightly. "I must study for by dwets. Dis Artidmancy equation is baking be crazy, and I haven't even started writing by speech for the Graduation cerebony yet."

"It will only take a minute," Lucan insisted, pulling her to her feet. "And then you can return to both your studies _and_ preparing your speech." As the Head Girl, one of Mandy's duties was to make a speech at the Graduation ceremony along with the Head Boy, like James and Lily had done the year before. Unfortunately, Mandy had no idea what to say.

"I'm busy," Mandy snapped hoarsely.

"Do you want me to sick Belinda on you?" Lucan threatened. "She can be vicious."

Mandy glared and threw him a rude sign. "I'll go see Badabe Pomfrey later," she said. "I bromise."

Lucan sighed at his best friend's stubbornness. "The sooner you go see her and begin the treatment for your cold and fever, the sooner you'll be back to be your normal, healthy, annoying self. It will only get worse if you delay things. And you don't want to be ill on Graduation, do you? Not to mention, our NEWT exams begin tomorrow – if you're this bad then, you won't be able to concentrate."

That did the trick. Mandy stood up, swaying slightly and Lucan quickly grabbed her arm. "You're a bery good friend, Luke," Mandy slurred suddenly, blinking tiredly, as the two made their way towards the Ravenclaw entrance, Mandy half-stumbling. After their disagreement about the war almost two months before, neither Lucan nor Mandy had brought it up again, and things had gone back to normal between them.

Well, almost.

There was a new wall between them because they knew they felt differently about the conflict going on outside Hogwarts. As Graduation grew closer, Mandy felt the wall become bigger and bigger, and she was afraid she would lose Lucan as a friend when they left school. However, it was only now, while ill, slightly delirious with fever, that she was able to express it. "Albays be by friend."

"Of course I'll always be your friend," Lucan told her, sighing, as they slowly began to walk down the spiralling staircase leading from Ravenclaw tower down to the fifth floor. "What brings this on?"

"Dothing," Mandy sniffed. "I'll biss you after Graduation, dat's all."

"I'll miss you too, M," Lucan smiled slightly. "But we'll still see each other."

"Bromise?"

"I promise."

* * *

**9 June**

"_Bombarda!"_ Nick snapped out, and the female Auror recruit, Nancy Winters, he was duelling against threw herself to the side, the spell only missing her by a hair's breadth. She stared at Nick with wide, fearful eyes.

"Merlin, Nick!" James, who had been observing the exercise a few feet away, snapped, stalking forward, hazel eyes angry. "Take it easy! This is _practice,_ not the real thing!"

"Well, how are we supposed to prepare for the real thing if we are only allowed to use first year spell-work?" Nick snapped back sourly.

"Now you're exaggerating," Sirius said through narrowed eyes, coming to stand beside his best friend. "No one is stopping you from using more dangerous spells – just try to avoid the lethal ones, will you? And perhaps use a little less force. You're duelling a fellow Auror, not a Death Eater. If that spell had struck, you could have seriously injured her."

Nick pursed his lips and turned to Nancy, forcing himself to smile at her. "I'm sorry, Nancy," he said through gritted teeth.

"That's alright," Nancy said shakily. "No harm done, after all."

Nancy was one of the more insecure recruits to the Auror force; a former secretary in her late twenties, and to be honest, neither James nor Sirius believed she had the right mentality to be able to become a successful in the field. But, as Frank had said, the Aurors were desperate.

"Are you ready to go again?" Nick asked her shortly, and then turned to James and Sirius. "Unless you have anything further to add?"

The two marauders exchanged looks. Finally, James sighed. "No. Feel free to resume the exercise."

"Good."

James and Sirius backed away, and proceeded to watch as the duel commenced. Nancy seemed to have lost what little faith she had in her own abilities, and Nick seemed bored, clearly playing with her.

"Nancy, you must move around more," Tomas Proudfoot, the Auror trainee in charge of her, yelled. "And don't be afraid to go on the offense as well as defence."

James frowned, not sure if he agreed with that assessment, considering Winters was barely holding her own defensively when Nick wasn't even trying. To tell her to start attacking was a mistake: James very much doubted Nancy had the ability to both defend herself and strike offensively at the same time.

"Proudfoot is a right twit," Sirius muttered, clearly of the same opinion as James.

"Nick, don't forget to use defensive spells as well," James shouted at the former Beater, hoping that the prompt would allow Nancy a better chance to at least hit him once. "A good Auror switches between offense and defence, depending on the situation."

Nick ignored him, and as Nancy stuttered out a half-hearted _"Expelliarmus,"_ Nick ducked it easily, and sent off three offensive spells of his own in rapid succession, tired of playing around: _"Stupefy! Reducto! Confringo!"_

Nancy was able to block the stunning spell, but the following two hit her straight on: the combination of the Reductor curse and blasting curse knocked her backwards, smashed her ribs into pieces and one of the bone fragments pierced her lungs.

Sirius, James and Tomas ran forward, along with several other Aurors who had seen it happen. Nick stared at Nancy's still form with an expression of utter horror on his rapidly paling face. "We need a Healer here, NOW!" Alice Longbottom shouted, while she cast a consignment of emergency healing spells on her, usually meant to keep Aurors in the field alive until they could be brought to a hospital.

"She has stopped breathing!" Proudfoot exclaimed, as two Healers came running, quickly kneeling by Nancy's body.

Suddenly, Alastor Moody was there, and he walked forward to Nick, his magical eye swirling widely in its socket.

"I-I didn't mean – I – " Nick stuttered out, his face turning green. "Merlin, I-I am so sorry! I - "

"Save it, lad," Moody said kindly, placing an arm on his shoulder. "What's been done cannot be undone. Let's go to my office and talk with a cuppa, eh? Alice, get Don and Barty for me, will you?"

Alice, who had backed away from Nancy to let the Healers do their work, nodded sadly, and Nick closed his eyes, resigned to his fate. Don Blake, Head of the Aurors, and Barty Crouch, Head of the Department of the Magical Law Enforcement, well known for his viciousness...he was doomed. And he deserved it.

* * *

_Two men approached a large clearing. One of them, slightly larger, with matted her and whiskers, had a horrible sneer on his face, showing off all of his pointed teeth. The smaller man stared at him in silence, showing no fear, his expression one of determination._

_Above them, the full moon rose, and the two men began to transform, their clothes ripping, as bones cracked, skin sprouted fur and the two humans became animals – werewolves._

_For several long seconds after the change was done, the two werewolves stared each other down, circling each other in a predatory way. Then, the larger werewolf – a grey line running across the dirty blonde fur on its curved back – pounced. Not even a second later, the smaller werewolf, its fur a golden blonde with silver streaks, leaped up, and the two lycans clashed together in wild fury, right in the centre of the clearing._

_The next few minutes were filled with growling and snarling sounds, as the two creatures tore into one another: __fur was ripped away from flesh, and flesh from bone, blood being splattered around the fighting creatures, dripping down on the grass. It was impossible to distinguish one lycan from the other._

_A flash of light, and the scene changed._

_The same man as before – the smaller one, stood in front of a large, beautiful castle. All around him, spells were flying; smoke and explosions appearing where they hit the ground. He seemed to be looking for something – or someone, his lips moving, but no sound was heard coming out, his yells drowned out by the human screams of pain, and the yells of command, being thrown about around him._

_Suddenly, the man's face scrunched up in shock and pain, and he looked down at his chest. The reas__on for his surprise was shown: a silver hand could be seen sticking out of his chest; someone had punched straight through his ribcage, all the way from his back. _

_The scene changed again. This time, the image showed a man with long dark hair was falling, backwards, into a veil of some kind. He disappeared from view behind almost translucent curtains._

_The scene dissolved, and a boy on the verge of adulthood, with messy black hair and green eyes walked forward, approaching a dark mountain which towered up above him, wand gripped tightly in his hand. _

_The image faded into another – a bright room with a bed could be seen, a man – an older version of the boy from the previous scene – lying still and pale as death on a white bed, his chest barely rising and falling._

_A dark figure, with blazing red eyes, raised his wand – a flash of green – and the scene dissolved again, and flashing images appeared in a rapid succession: __a book, four rocks of some kind in various shapes, a luminous door made out of shimmering, radiant light, a lightning bold scar, and a dusty looking glass orb, transmitting a dull inner glow coming from within. A whispering, hoarse voice could be heard, repeating two phrases, over and over: 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…' and 'The one with the power to guide the lightning child approaches…'_

Buffy woke up with a strangled gasp, panting as what she had just seen. Closing her eyes, she touched a hand to her forehead, noticing her fingers were trembling. A prophetic dream. Dreams, even – there had been so many moments; trying to recall them all made her dizzy, especially since she had near forgotten what it was like to have Slayer visions. She hadn't had one since before she came here.

"Buffy?" Remus mumbled sleepily from beside her. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Buffy said, trying to stop her voice from shaking. "Go back to sleep. I'm going to get some air."

Remus squinted up at her with a worried expression, but finally nodded, and closed his eyes. It was the night before the night of full moon, and he needed his rest, and Buffy was glad: it meant he was in no shape for pushing her to tell her what she'd dreamt.

Standing up from the bed, Buffy exited the bedroom and then the cottage, taking in a deep breath of the cool night air, grateful for the cold seeping into her skin, waking her up, and making it easier to think. She needed a clear head if she was to try and make sense of the dreams.

The first vision had been of Greyback and Remus, both of them older-looking than they were now. The second had been another vision of Remus, standing in front of Hogwarts, which seemed to be the ground for some sort of battle.

Buffy massaged her temples tiredly. It was impossible to tell which moment came first, time-wise: Remus had looked to be about the same age in both visions, but Buffy dearly hoped the second came first. Despite the fact that the first moment involved what seemed to be a possibly deadly confrontation with Greyback, at least it would mean Remus would survive the man with the silver hand… If only she had seen a face – something, _anything, _more than just that hand. Who did it belong to?

She groaned in frustration. The third scene had been of a much older Sirius. She had no idea where the location was though, or what the veil had been. Had Sirius been falling to his death? She hoped not. In any case, all three of the first visions had clearly been of a distant future. There was nothing she could do about it now, or to prevent it. So why had the Powers sent them to her at all? Was it a warning of what could be? Or what would be? She just didn't know. Her prophetic dreams were fickle, at best, and always open to interpretation.

The fourth vision had been of a younger looking James. Or had it? Buffy frowned. Why would the Powers show her a dream of the past? Closing her eyes, Buffy tried to recall the details of the scene. Her eyes snapped open. Green. James' eyes had been green – the exact shade as Lily's. It hadn't been James at all, Buffy realised… It must have been his son. His and Lily's… This again, meant that moment was years and years into the future, since Lily and James didn't have a son, unless it had miraculously happened overnight. And she didn't recognise the mountain either.

The scene following that one however...that _must_ have been James, unless the Powers had decided to skip forward another twenty years or so, and show his son well into adulthood. Considering his eyes had been closed, it was possible. Either way, James or his son, it didn't matter. What did matter was his status. Had he simply been sleeping, which Buffy hoped, or had he been dying?

Buffy felt like crying. She had no idea what to do about these visions. She had no idea what had led up to the moments she had seen, so other than the apparent jump in time; the ageing, she had nothing to go on. Who was to say it wouldn't be too late to change anything once she got a hint? She sighed. She didn't used to be so negative – or at least she didn't think so.

Biting her lip, Buffy let her mind stray to the final parts of the vision. The dark figure had obviously been Voldemort. Likewise, the flash of green must have been an 'Avada Kedavra' – but who had it been directed at? And more importantly, had it hit its intended target?

The book, Buffy strongly suspected was the book the Order feared Voldemort had in his possession, with all the terrifying knowledge it held at his disposal. Since it had been a part of the vision, it must still have a part to play. She frowned, wishing the Order would have had more luck with researching it and tracking its previous owners down. But as the trail had gotten stone cold rather suddenly, it had been to no avail: clearly, Voldemort had covered his tracks well.

As for the rocks... to be honest, Buffy had no idea why they had been a part of her vision, but they must hold some sort of significance for the future. Then, there were the final three parts of the vision: the door, the scar, and the glass orb, though she didn't know what importance they held. And of course, the rigid voice and the creepy message which sounded an awful lot like parts of a prophecy... That part was the one which interested her the most.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..."_ Buffy whispered to herself. Obviously, it spoke of someone with the ability to destroy Voldemort. But who? And who was the person that was to guide him or her? She believed the lightning child – which explained the importance of a lightning bolt scar – was also the one able to destroy Voldemort. At least, she hoped so, or things would be even more complicated.

And _approaching..._what did that mean? Approaching even now? Or yet to come? Though the voice had spoken in present tense, the majority of her dream had been of the very distant future. Therefore, it only made sense that the prophecy she'd heard in her vision hadn't yet been told either.

Buffy felt a sudden sense of despair as she realised this war was meant to drag on for years and years, unless a miracle occurred, or she found a way to shorten it drastically. And how could she do that, if there was a prophecy involved? It wasn't like she could destroy Voldemort herself – she highly doubted she was 'the one' for she didn't have a lightning bolt scar, and she couldn't be called a child either. Of course, the images of Hogwarts as a battle ground could be a fight against someone other than Voldemort, and the prophecy in her dream could speak of another Dark Lord. But how likely was that? And then again, if the prophecy hadn't yet been told, did that mean anyone could destroy Voldemort until the moment it was?

Her shoulders slumped. "Things were so much easier in Sunnydale," she muttered out loud, pouting. "One battle of apocalyptic proportions with its resolution at the end of each school year. If I had stuck around for a little longer, perhaps I even could have marked it down in my calendar as an annual event."

* * *

**15 June**

Mandy stood nervously in the Entrance Hall, fingering her strapless yellow dress, made out of a fine material in a layered design. It was the night of the graduation ball and the Ravenclaw was waiting for Sirius to arrive as her date: the majority of the Graduates were already in the Great Hall. Nervously, she looked up at the large clock above the entrance. He was late. But what else could she expect?

The large doors to the Great Hall opened, and Lucan poked his head out. "Hey, M. Hasn't Sirius arrived yet?"

Mandy shook her head. "You know how he is," she attempted to make light of the situation. "He always has to make an entrance."

Lucan chuckled, then frowned as she saw how pale she was. "Hey, are you alright? I noticed you didn't eat much during dinner."

Mandy smiled weakly. The leaving feast had been that afternoon, though Mandy had been unable to enjoy the meal, too worried about what she was going to say tomorrow at the Graduation ceremony. She had never been a very confident public speaker, and feared her Head Girl speech was filled with clichés. "Just worrying about my speech," she said.

"You'll be fine," Lucan dismissed. "And if the cat gets your tongue, just imagine everyone naked."

"Not helping, Luke," Mandy muttered.

The doors to the castle flew open, and a frazzled looking Sirius appeared, out of breath. "Sorry I'm late!" The marauder apologized, while smoothing down his slightly wrinkled robes. "I got held up at work. You look beautiful."

Mandy smiled at him, too relieved that he was finally here to be angry. "Well, at least you're here now," she said, and Sirius grinned, leaning forward and placing a gentleman's kiss on her hand.

"Of course. I could never stand the Head Girl up, now, could I?" He joked. "Who's Head Boy, by the way?" He asked, as he and Mandy finally entered the Hall, arm in arm, Lucan walking a couple of steps ahead of them, no doubt eager to rejoin his girlfriend. "I know you've told me, but I've forgotten."

"Sam Bryant," Mandy answered, feeling her nervousness regarding her speech return. Sam had no such problems – he was a Gryffindor, and on top of that Beater for the Quidditch team, and as such, used to the attention.

Sirius nodded appreciatively. "Always nice to see a fellow Gryffindor – not to mention a former teammate – on the spot." Noticing her nervousness, he stopped and turned to give her a concerned look. Coincidentally (or perhaps not – you could never know with Sirius, after all), he had paused right in the middle of the decorated Great Hall. The two immediately became the centre of attention, as the students noticed Sirius' presence. He was one of few dates not presently a Hogwarts student accompanying a graduate. And a marauder, on top of that. "Hey, are you alright?"

"Just slightly nervous about what I'm going to say tomorrow," Mandy admitted quietly.

"You'll do great," Sirius told, her swirling her around in his arms as music was struck up by the Wizarding band hired for the night. "I'll be in the crowd, remember. And if you get jittery, just look at me and imagine me naked," he shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the whole Wizarding World. Mandy couldn't help it; she burst out laughing. "What?"

"I'm sorry, you just sounded so serious – no pun intended," Mandy said between snorts. "And it was a variation of Lucan's advice, that he gave me before, only he told me to imagine _everyone _naked."

Sirius scoffed. "Now why would you want to do that?" He asked. "I'm plenty enough for your viewing pleasure, aren't I?"

Mandy smiled broadly as he turned her around in another spin. "I love you," she said, and Sirius grinned back cheekily.

"Of course you do. I'm Sirius Black!"

Mandy smacked his chest.

* * *

**16 June**

Mandy's face was chalk white after she accepted her diploma from the Headmaster and had shaken the hands of all of her professors. Since her last name began with a W, she was among the last people in her year to accept the diploma. As such, there was no need for her to return to her seat since she was to hold her speech in a few seconds.

"Now, I hand over the word to our Head Boy and Head Girl, Sam Bryant and Mandy Walker," Dumbledore said, as the last student to accept his diploma retook his seat, but Mandy barely heard him. Sam walked up to stand at her side, throwing her a concerned look.

"Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore," Sam said, being the first to speak, "for seven wonderful years. Today, we leave Hogwarts," he continued. "And an era. A large part of our lives is over, and while we physically leave this castle behind, we will carry it with us in our memory. Our days at Hogwarts have been filled with so many things, and it is difficult to believe we are sure to experience a lot more, just in a different way. Today, we leave a sanctuary behind, and tomorrow, we enter a world which is a little less safe; a little less innocent, but no less beautiful. For it is the Wizarding World – _our _world, and I am proud to be a part of it. It is up to us now to make sure it remains beautiful, so that future generations can also appreciate it, and come to love it, as I have."

During Sam's speech, the haze on Mandy's mind faded away, and she was left clear-headed. Looking at Sirius (and _not _imagining him naked), and her friends, she felt a sudden calmness come over her as she saw his wide grin. The speech she had prepared seemed wrong all of sudden, too formal, and, impulsively, the words she began to speak became something else entirely.

"I am graduating today among friends," she began, not knowing where the words had come from, only that they felt right. "Family. We come from different backgrounds, and for seven years, we have belonged to different Houses, but we have all been a part of something great - a part of Hogwarts history. We have grown up here, together, and as we leave today, we do it together. I will always remember all of you, and look back on my time here with fondness. A part of me will always belong to Hogwarts. And we will always belong to each other, because together, we are the Graduating class of 1979."

Mandy smiled, looking out over her fellow graduates, all staring up at her with solemn expressions, perhaps sensing the importance of this moment – their graduation. There would be no such thing as prejudice today, and no scorn over different beliefs or plans for the future: today, their houses and their backgrounds didn't matter. "Congratulations," she said. "And good luck!"

* * *

"Ah, Monsieur de Mort," Madame Maxine greeted the stern looking pureblood. "You must be very proud of your daughter today, is it not so?"

"Indeed, Headmistress," Philippe de Mort said, glancing over at his daughter. Eliza was standing with two of her best friends: Sophie and Audrey. A scowl appeared on his face when Julie, another best friend of Eliza's, walked up to them. He did not like Eliza's association with the muggleborn girl, and likely, he never would. But considering the death of Eliza's mother, he decided to let it go. And it wouldn't do to make a scene in public, of course. "It was a beautiful Graduation ceremony," he praised instead. "Très bon."

The Beauxbatons Headmistress practically swelled up with pride. "Merci. I must admeet I was surprised at 'ow dedicated Mademoiselle Eliza was to her coursework this year. Elle a été très focalisée."

"Hmm. Let's hope it shows in her grades," Philippe commented. "It's about time she applied herself, though I fear it is far too late."

"You should 'ave more faith in your daughter, Monsieur," the Headmistress scolded lightly.

"I will," Phillipe said. "When she proves herself capable of more than earning herself detentions left and right."

Madama Maxine frowned, but said nothing to defend her student – former student, now. Instead, she made a light joke: "Dat, at least you do not 'ave to fear, Philippe. No more école, no more detentions."

"That only leaves me free to fear everything else, instead." Blue eyes sharpened. "Eliza has always managed to find ways to get herself dragged into trouble."

* * *

"Oh, your papa looks angry," Julie commented as she hugged her dark haired friend.

"That's nothing new. He _always_ looks angry," Audrey joked, as Eliza looked over towards her father, who was conversing with Madame Maxine, and, indeed, shooting a frowning look in their direction.

"Audrey!" Eliza scolded, though inwardly, she agreed with her friend.

"What?" Audrey exclaimed. "Are you denying it? One would think he could at least be happy on his daughter's graduation day."

Eliza sighed. "He is. He is just not very good at showing emotions."

"Joyful ones, you mean," Audrey said. "Anyway, let's not talk more of Eliza's father, please." Her eyes twinkled. "After all, we have graduated. No more school! I plan to bask in that knowledge for as long as possible. Il est merveilleux!"

"Likewise," Sophie echoed. "And then, I am going to marry a fine, rich gentleman from Paris, and we shall live on the French Riviera in a grand house, have one-and-half children, a Labrador, and House-Elves to serve my every need!" She grinned widely.

"You certainly don't hold low expectations," Julie laughed. "As for me, I'm going to take each day as it comes. Et vous, Eliza?"

For a long moment, Eliza was silent. She had told no one of her plans for after Graduation, and now when the day was finally here, she felt freer than she had in a long time. But also frightened. While anger at her mother's murderer had kept her fueled, it had faded during the course of the school year.

Headmaster Dumbledore had been right – revenge was never a good motivation for anything. And as her thirst for vengeance faded, a fierce determination to help other people had taken its place, for the _right _reasons.

It might be Britain's war…but if Voldemort won, it was only a matter of time before he turned his attention to France, and then the rest of Europe. And as the war raged, more families would be destroyed, like hers had been, and Eliza did not want to see that happen.

"I am going to move to England," she finally said resolutely, ignoring the way her friends' eyes all widened in shocked surprise, and not a little horror.

"But Eliza…" Sophie told her gently. "Pourquoi? There's a civil-war going on over there…against that Dark Lord."

"And that's why I'm going," Eliza said calmly. "I'm going to help. I have thought long and hard on this," she added, when she saw her friends open their mouths again, doubtlessly to offer more protests and reasons why she shouldn't. "It is not a decision I made overnight, and non, it is not just because of my mother. Oui, she was the opening factor, but far from the last. Je dois faire ceci. Won't you support me? You are my best friends, and it would mean a lot to me."

Julie was the first to speak, and she embraced Eliza tightly, closing her eyes. "Of course I will support you in this, ami de mon coeur. If it is truly what you want."

"It is," Eliza nodded.

"Does your father know?" Sophie asked, a frown between her eyebrows.

"Non," Eliza answered, shaking her head. "Of course he doesn't. Can you imagine his reaction if he was to find out?"

"Well, then you have my blessing too," Audrey grinned. "Anything to piss him off."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Audrey. Eliza, you have to tell him!" Sophie exclaimed. "Il est votre père! Or are you just going to get up one night and leave, without saying goodbye?"

Eliza shrugged, slightly embarrassed. To be honest, that was exactly what she'd planned. "I'm going to leave a letter, of course," she said. "But I can't tell him beforehand, you must understand that!" She looked at her friends pleadingly. "He would never let me go."

Audrey and Julie nodded, but Sophie shook her head. "No. I can't support this, Eliza, I'm sorry. You're my friend, but this is madness! You're heading to your death, not to mention going against your father's wishes."

"And why is that so important, all of sudden?" Eliza demanded to know. "You have never cared about what he thinks before."

Sophie bit her lip. "We aren't children anymore," she finally said. "We have responsibilities now. We can't play around, like before."

"I'm not playing around, Sophie," Eliza said quietly. "I'm very serious about this, and I feel that my responsibility is to help in the war against Voldemort."

Sophie flinched at the name. "Don't," she begged. "Don't go. Stay here. Where you'll be safe."

"And unhappy," Eliza finished. "No, Sophie. I'm leaving France, and nothing you say will change that, but your understanding would mean a lot to me."

"But I don't!" Sophie said loudly. "I don't understand, and I certainly don't approve." She took a deep breath. "I am not going to tell your father about your outrageous plans, but I can't support you in this, Eliza, I'm sorry." Spinning around on her heels, Sophie walked away, and Eliza looked after her dejectedly, sad that this was likely the last time she would ever see her friend in a long while, and that it was in such a heartbreaking way that they parted.

"When are you leaving?" Julie asked, filling the awkward silence that had fallen over the three friends when Sophie walked away.

"Tonight," Eliza said quietly. "The sooner I leave the better, or my father might start to suspect. I already have an apartment set up in London, and my money transferred to a vault at Gringotts there."

"When did you have time to arrange all this?" Audrey asked.

"During these past six months," Eliza said. "And I have had a…mentor…help me set everything up properly." She was truly grateful for all of Dumbledore's help. A month earlier, she had written to the Headmaster, telling him of her final decision – that she was determined to help in the war, in any way that she could. He had written back, and told her they could speak more of what she could do when and if she arrived in Britain, and had offered to make arrangements for a move from France to England. Gladly, she had accepted, and over the course of the following weeks, the two had exchanged a large flurry of letters.

"I wish you all the luck," Audrey told her. "Vous me manquerez."

"I will miss you as well," Julie grinned. "And please, try to not get yourself killed," she added. "After all, I am counting on a reunion, and if you're dead, that could be difficult."

Eliza laughed.

* * *

_**Published: **15/12 - 10_

* * *

**French translations**

Très bon – Very good.  
Merci – Thank you.  
Elle a été très focalisée – She was very focused.  
École – School.  
Il est merveilleux! – It is wonderful!  
Et vous, Eliza? – What about you, Eliza?  
Porquoi? – Why?  
Je dois faire ceci – I need to do this.  
Ami de mon coeur – Friend of my heart.  
Il est votre père – He is your father.  
Vous me manquerez – I will miss you.


	22. Tricked

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

Mandy yawned tiredly, exhausted after the ceremony and the apparation from Hogsmeade to London afterwards, and followed Sirius into his apartment.

With a flick of his wand, Sirius turned the lights on, and turned to grin at Mandy. "I'm so happy you decided to move in with me," he said, ignoring Mandy's widening eyes as she took in the state of the apartment.

"Sirius..." The brunette said slowly. "Not to sound like a complete snob, but this place is a pigsty!" She hadn't been in Sirius' apartment since last summer, after she helped him move in, when she stayed with him during the holidays. The contrast from what it looked like then, to what it looked like now was huge: now, clothes were strewn around carelessly, both on the floor and the furniture, dust decorated tabletops and cabinets, and dishes were piling up everywhere.

"I think it's homey," Sirius countered, throwing himself down on the sofa. "Lived in."

"Well, I give you that last one," Mandy conceded. "But I refuse to live like this. And I'm not going to clean this up for you, so you better get started." She leaned back against the wall, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow in Sirius' direction. "Go on."

"Mandy," Sirius whined. The truth was, Sirius didn't particularly enjoy the disorder either, but after Regulus' disappearance, his time had been taking up by search, work and worry. Before he knew it, the mess had piled up, and just looking at it drained him of all energy to clean it up and clear the worst of the clutter away.

"Oh, please. A little bit of house holding won't kill you," Mandy snorted. "This untidiness might, though."

Resigned, Sirius pulled out his wand and was just about to cast his first cleaning spell, when there was a knock on the door. Surprised, Sirius walked to open it. "Headmaster Dumbledore!" He exclaimed. "What can I do for you?" In a hushed whisper, to keep Mandy from hearing, he leaned forward. "Has something happened? Is this to do with the Order?"

"In a manner of speaking," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "But it was actually Miss Walker I hoped to see."

Sirius' eyebrows rose and he looked between his girlfriend and the Headmaster. "I see," he finally said, his shoulders slumping as he realized that Dumbledore must be here to ask his girlfriend to join the Order. It seemed Mandy was not going to be left out of this war after all, at least not if she decided to accept Dumbledore's offer, and he had no doubt she would. "You can use my bedroom," he offered, and Dumbledore nodded, stepping inside, not even blinking at the mess.

"Miss Walker," he said. "May I have a word?" He gestured to Sirius bedroom door.

Confused, Mandy followed him inside, but not before throwing Sirius a look. "I expect there to be a large improvement of the state of your apartment when I come out," she threatened, and Sirius sighed.

* * *

**19 June**

"Minister, Lucius Malfoy is here," the secretary of the Minister of Magic, said, opening the door to his office.

"Oh?" The Minister, Brutus Tool, questioned, surprised. "Well, I better see what he wants. Lauren, please, send him in," said, standing up from behind his desk.

Lauren nodded, turning to speak to Lucius Malfoy standing outside. "He will see you now, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius Malfoy strode into the office like he owned it, face held high, not even glancing in the secretary's direction as she closed the door behind them.

"Lucius, always a pleasure," Brutus said, shaking his hand, and sitting back down, gesturing to the seat in front of his tidy desk. "How is your father, Abraxas? It has been awhile since I saw him."

"He is well," Lucius said smoothly, inclining his head in the Minister's direction, as he sat. "Or as well as one can be in times of war."

"Yes, yes," Brutus agreed. "You-Know-Who...awful business, that. But, with our Auror's help, I have no doubt we will be able to find a quick solution and end this war."

"Indeed," Lucius said, though inwardly, he was laughing at the Minister's naivety. "It is actually of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that I came to speak about," he added, after a short pause. "As you are no doubt aware, the Malfoy family is pureblood, and well known in both social and political circles."

"Yes," Brutus nodded sagely. "And also a staunch supporter of the Ministry of Magic. Tell me, Lucius, do you plan to venture into politics, like your ancestors and father? The Ministry always need bright minds, such as yourself."

Lucius smiled good-naturedly. "Perhaps in the future," he said. "For now, I am trying to concentrate on managing the Malfoy assets, alongside my father, and my own family."

"Ah, yes, Narcissa," Brutus said. "It is a shame her sister, Bellatrix, chose the road of You-Know-Who."

Lucius eyes noticeable cooled. "Well...even in well-respected families there are bound to be a bad apple or two." He abruptly changed the subject, tired of the chit-chat. "As I was saying, the Malfoy family is quite well known, and we have many connections, both high and low." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "My father has heard rumours," he whispered. "Of the Dark Lord's movements."

Brutus Tool paled, but at the same time, an almost fervent look appeared in his eyes. "Oh? Anything you can tell me would be of a great help for the Ministry, of course, and will be rewarded appropriately. But at the same time, I must caution you and your family not to get too deeply involved in such circles." He frowned.

"Oh, we are not," Lucius assured him with a wide smile. "Not personally, at any rate, but like I said, we have...connections, with more connections. A man must know his enemies in order to protect himself, after all."

Brutus nodded. "Quite right, quite right. Now...what is it you have heard?"

"You must remember this might be idle gossip – hearsay that is unconfirmed," Lucius began, careful to cover his own back. "But there have been whispers about a planned attack: large-scale, from the sounds of it."

"Another one?" Tool exclaimed, horrified. "So soon after the one at the Quidditch game?"

"Yes. But this one is not directed at the public...the whispers speak of the prison – Azkaban."

Brutus stood up and began to pace around the office. "It makes sense...to break into Azkaban and free all the prisoners there...they are sure to be eager to join You-Know-Who...and some are convicted Death Eaters who would jump at the chance to rejoin his master. When?" He spun around, looking at Lucius. "Do you have a date?" He looked eager, no doubt at the opportunity to end the war, by surprising the Dark Lord and hopefully, taking him down. Lucius sneered to himself. Brutus was truly a daft fool – so easy to hoodwink, and a perfect _tool, _easy for his master to influence and utilize.

"The beginning of next week, I believe, but one cannot be certain," Lucius answered, standing up as well. "After all...rumours, nothing solid. I really must be going," he added, sounding regretful. "I have done what I can to help you by telling you this. It is up to you now, Minister, to make use of it."

"I, the Ministry, and the Wizarding World, thank you with all my heart, Lucius," Brutus said gratefully, opening the door for the aristocrat. "I will make sure this information lands in the right hands."

Lucius bowed slightly, and then left. For a moment, the Minister just stood still in his doorway, looking slightly dazed, before he snapped out of it. He turned to his secretary. "Lauren, send for Barty Crouch and Don Blake – it is imperative that I meet with them at once."

"Right away, Minister," Lauren said.

* * *

**22 June**

"Thank you all for coming to this meeting, and thank you, Dorcas, for offering your home to us," Dumbledore began, opening up another meeting of the Order.

Dorcas Meadowes smiled jovially. "It was no trouble at all."

"As you can see, we have two new faces with us here today," Dumbledore continued, and turned to look at the two females sitting nervously on two chairs. "Mandy Walker has newly graduated from Hogwarts, and is a good friend of many of our youngest members. And after conversing with her on several occasions, Eliza de Mort is someone of my own recommendation, as she has both personal and honourable reasons to be here."

"De Mort? As in the woman who was murdered?" Edgar Bones asked, turning to look at her curiously.

"You must be speaking of my maman," Eliza said quietly, and the Order gave her sympathetic looks.

"If no one has any objections to their joining the Order, I suggest we get on with the initiation," Dumbledore said, looking around the circle of Order members.

"We trust your judgement, Albus," Benjy Fenwick said, clearly speaking for everyone, and Dumbledore smiled.

"Excellent." He put a hand inside his robes and pulled out an orb from a hidden pocket, placing it on the middle of the table. "Now, all the other members are already familiar with this little ritual," he said as he saw Eliza's and Mandy's slightly doubtful looks. "All you need to do is place your hand on it, and if it lights up, it is proof that you are both loyal and true to the Order's cause. Who would like to begin?"

Glancing quickly at Sirius, Mandy stood up. "I will," she said, and placed her hand on the orb, which immediately began to give of a warm glow.

"Perfect," Dumbledore said happily as Mandy returned to her seat. "Eliza, if you will?"

The French girl nervously approached the orb, and it lit up immediately for her as well.

"Since you both passed the test, I am most pleased to welcome you both to the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said. "Now, let us move on to other, far more grim matters. Alastor has informed me that the Ministry has received intelligence about another Death Eater attack. Alastor, would you like to explain?"

Moody stood up. "Four days ago Minister Tool received intelligence there is to be a possible attack on Azkaban in to free the prisoners there sometime in the beginning of next week," he said gruffly, and whispers broke out. "He immediately told Barty Crouch and Don Blake, who then told me. The Minister wants to plant a congregation of Aurors at the island, both inside and outside the prison in an effort to make sure the attempt remains an attempt and not becomes another success, and if possible, kill or capture You-Know-Who himself, if he is there. I am not foolish enough to believe we can achieve that," he smiled humourlessly, "but we should be able to stop them in their tracks, at least, and make them think twice before they attack yet again."

"I spoke with the Minister, Crouch and Blake afterwards, myself," Dumbledore continued as Alastor sat back down, "and offered my help. Brutus and Don were more than happy to accept any aid I would be able to give – Barty was slightly more reluctant, believing it should be left to the Aurors and the Ministry only, but was, in the end, convinced more backup was not a bad idea. If you are willing, I would like to place some of the Order members on rotation inside Azkaban, alongside the Aurors. For obvious reasons, only those capable of casting a Patronus spell, preferably even under great stress, should go."

"I'll go," Remus immediately offered, and Buffy nodded as well.

"Me too. I can't say I'm an expert on the Patronus spell, but I can cast one, at least, and I think I should be there, in case Voldemort decides to send vampires."

Eliza looked clearly confused. "Why should that matter?" She asked, looking at Buffy.

"Miss Summers here is a Vampire Slayer," Dumbledore told Eliza with twinkling eyes. "I don't know if you have heard the myth?" From the way her blue eyes bulged in shock, it was clear she had. "Anyone else who would like to volunteer for this mission?"

"Alice and I would," Frank said, "but Don and Crouch have spoken to us and want us to remain behind in charge of the Aurors staying at the Ministry. That's all of the recruits and those who have newly graduated – everyone else will be at Azkaban."

"Does that mean James and I are expected to stay at the Ministry?" Sirius asked, frowning.

"Yes," Alice said. "Unless you want to blow your cover as Order members completely."

"I'll go," Caradoc said curtly. "Summers needs someone to watch her back – or use it as a vaulting horse again."

Buffy coughed, barely holding back a laugh.

It didn't take long until a large part of the Order had volunteered as well, including Mandy and Eliza.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore beamed. "Now, we must work out a rotating schedule that does not collide with your work, beginning Sunday evening, of course, since we do not know at which point, exactly, that the attack is going to occur."

* * *

**26 June**

Remus walked, shivering, back and forth across the corridor on level three in Azkaban, patrolling. Today, it was he, Buffy, Moody, Dorcas, Edgar, Benjy, Caradoc and Dumbledore himself, on the Order rotation, with two Order members on every level. The Aurors were stationed more strategically at various places both on the island and inside the prison; some remained hidden, and some were in plain sight.

"Are you cold?" Dorcas asked conversationally, from her vantage point by the window.

"Not as such," Remus said. "It's just these bloody dementors. They give me the shivers."

Dorcas nodded in agreement. Unfortunately, the people on duty had strict orders from Crouch to only cast a Patronus if a dementor specifically appeared in the corridor they were patrolling, since they were part of Azkaban's security. This meant the dementors' effects were constantly present, even when they weren't in visible sight: the entire prison had a dark, depressing gloom over itself, affecting the people patrolling.

Remus sighed. "The waiting is the worst, though," he said. "Not knowing when, if anything, is going to happen."

Dorcas smiled at him. "Not very patient, are you?"

"Usually, I tend to be," Remus said. "But these are not usual circumstances."

"True," Dorcas said, fingering her wand absently. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask: what happened to your face? I noticed it several months ago, but decided not to ask you then, in case it was too sensitive a subject." She cocked her head. "If it still is, I won't ask again."

Remus fingered the scars on his face, left by Fenrir, slightly self-consciously. It was almost six months since they were inflicted, and they had faded a lot: they were only three, pale streaks now. But they were still visible, if you knew they were there - once you had noticed them, you couldn't stop, or at least, that was what Remus felt. "It's alright, I don't mind," he answered. "Greyback's work."

Dorcas nodded. "I suppose we will all bear scars from this war when it's over," she said. "Though some carry them on the inside, rather than the outside."

"Do you mind me asking why you joined the Order?" Remus asked curiously.

"Not at all," Dorcas said. "It was just after I graduated Hogwarts. I was planning on becoming a dressmaker." She smiled slightly. "I'm quite good at charms, and design has always interested me. Or at least, it used to. It seems so trivial now. Anyway, I was delivering some clothes to a muggle orphanage near where I live. That's when Voldemort's Death Eater's attacked. It was so pointless. They killed almost everyone, and for no reason other than to 'have fun.' "I made as many children as possible follow me, and we barricaded ourselves into the basement, until after the Death Eaters left. I was sitting with a tiny baby in my arms..." Her voice trailed off, and she seemed to be far away.

Remus waited patiently for Dorcas to continue, while also remembering another tiny child – his sister. Was she happy, with the Baddocks?

"She was very weak. One of the children told me a homeless woman had dropped her off just the day before. To give her a better life than she could." Dorcas swallowed. "She died in my arms. The moment she passed away, that's when I decided I had to help in the war somehow, to help prevent more pointless, unnecessary death. Dumbledore seemed to be the right way to go about it."

* * *

Buffy and Caradoc were the Order members placed on level two of the prison: Dumbledore and Moody were at level four; the top level, and Edgar Bones and Benjy Fenwick patrolled the first.

The Slayer was singing a merry little tune as she waited, leaning against the wall across one of the prisoner's cells. And considering the song it was, unfortunately enough for Caradoc, the prisoners not yet driven insane, and the Aurors within hearing-range, she had been singing it for fifty verses. _"...Forty-nine bottles of beer on the wall, forty-nine bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around, forty-eight bottles of beer on the wall. Forty-eight bottles of beer on the wall, forty-eight bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around – "_

"For all that is holy, woman, SHUT UP!" Caradoc finally shouted, losing his patience.

Buffy pouted. "Don't you like my singing, Car?" She asked.

"I don't mind your singing as much as I mind the song," Caradoc said through gritted teeth, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance. "If you must sing, chose something else."

"Like what?"

"I don't know! Anything!"

An impish glint appeared in Buffy's eyes, and then, she began to sing again: _"Ninety-nine kettles of soup on the heat, ninety-nine kettles of soup. If one of those kettles I happen to eat, ninety-eight kettles of soup on the heat. Ninety-eight kettles of soup on the heat, ninety-eight kettles of soooooup..."_

"BLOODY HELL!"

* * *

"Do you see anything, Alastor?" Dumbledore asked, glancing at the Auror spying out of the window with his magical eye – his real one was stuck on the prisoners. From the fourth floor, you had an amazing view of the surrounding area of Azkaban. Or it would have been, if not for the mist and great waves splashing against the shore.

"It's impossible to see through the bleeding fog, even with my eye," Moody grumbled, annoyed.

Suddenly, the entire prison seemed to shake in its foundations, and Moody and Dumbledore looked at each other, immediately on the alert. The Aurors on the same level all came running. "Did you feel that?" Leif Savage, an Auror in his thirties, asked, his eyes glinting. "They have come."

A few seconds later, a Patronus in the shape of a buffalo appeared with a message from Benjy Fenwick._ "Death Eaters have entered the prison on the first level."_

The Patronus faded out of sight, and then, Dumbledore, Moody, and the Aurors flew into action. "Five Aurors should remain on this level in case more Death Eaters appear," Moody commanded. "The rest of you – follow me to level one!"

* * *

The floor shook. Buffy stopped singing, and she and Caradoc exchanged looks. Ten seconds later, Death Eaters appeared on the stairs, coming from the first floor. The Aurors stationed with the two Order members immediately began to fight, forcing the Death Eaters to stay on the stairs. Buffy and Caradoc took care of the few who managed to slip pass. Slowly, everyone on the second floor forced the Death Eaters back down to the first, and as Buffy and Caradoc reached it, they saw the fighting was almost over.

The Death Eaters were overwhelmed, and when backup from the third and fourth floor arrived as well, the majority of the Death Eaters had already been captured or otherwise incapacitated. Those that hadn't, surrendered when they caught sight of Dumbledore. All except one.

"Hey!" Edgar yelled, alerting everyone else to the fact that one Death Eater had managed to slip away in the chaos, and enter the small office of the prison. Edgar immediately took chase, followed by Buffy and Remus.

The Death Eater had reached the floo, but rather than grab some floo-powder and try to escape like Edgar expected, he raised his wand, a spell of an unknown light entering the fireplace. A shimmer seemed to cover it for a second, and then disappear. _"Bombarda!"_ He then yelled, and the fireplace exploded, immediately destroyed, unable to be used again without serious magical repairs.

"_Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!"_ Edgar snapped out, and the wand flew out of the Death Eater's hand, and he was surrounded by ropes binding him tightly. Edgar sighed, looking pleased. "All in one day's work," he said. "For once, it was only a small attack, easy to diffuse."

"Perhaps _too_ easy," Buffy spoke up, frowning. "If Voldemort truly wanted to free the prisoners, wouldn't he have brought more Death Eaters? Maybe even be here in person?"

"I am afraid Buffy is right," Dumbledore said gravelly, appearing in the doorway of the small office, along with Moody and Savage. "There must be something more going on here."

Savage's eyes hardened and the Auror turned to look at the bound Death Eater. "What was the actual point of attacking the prison?" He asked as he walked forwards, kneeling down in front of him. "What was your purpose?"

The Death Eater spat at his feet. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He asked mockingly.

Benjy pointed his wand at him. "Talk!" He demanded. "Or else – "

"Or else what?" The Death Eater laughed. "Are you going to torture it out of me? You're on the _light side, _remember?"

"They may not want to hurt you," Buffy stepped forwards. "But I don't mind."

The Death Eater's laughter grew even louder. "You?" He snorted. "You're just a girl."

Buffy smiled sweetly. "Oh? Just a girl, huh?" She let her fist fly. The Death Eater howled and everyone winced as they heard his nose crack. "But guess what? You're _wrong."_

The Death Eater stared up at her, fear in his eyes for the first time. "Oh, I'm not going to _kill _you," the Slayer said, as she saw him trembling. "Because you're human. But I can make you hurt. A lot." Her eyes narrowed threateningly, and she raised her fist again.

The Death Eater flinched. "Don't!"

"Are you going to talk?" Buffy demanded.

"Alright, alright!" He panted, licking his lips nervously. "We…we're meant to confine you. Keep you from leaving."

"That's why you blocked the floo, rather than try to escape…" Remus stared at the collapsed fireplace.

"You meant to keep us here," Buffy swallowed, as an awful thought rose in her mind. "And by blocking the floo, we're trapped. The wards don't allow portkeys, or apparation. The fireplace is the only way off this island, if you don't have a boat or broomstick. Either way, both those means of travel would take time, considering how far from the main land we are…" She spun around to stare at the Death Eater in utter horror, an expression mirrored by the other Aurors and Order members. "The attack on the prison…it was just a distraction."

The Death Eater laughed derisively. "So you figured it out. Congratulations."

"For what reason?" Caradoc asked, fists clenching.

"Why do you think?" The Death Eater smirked. "With the Aurors away…the Dark Lord can come out and play."

"Oh my God," Buffy whispered as the Death Eater's actual target finally became obvious. They had been completely tricked. "The Ministry…"

The Death Eater grinned maliciously. "Unprotected."

* * *

"Hey, Nick, do you want to grab some dinner with us?" James asked, and Nick looked up from his cubicle. His former Quidditch Captain looked ready to leave for the day, and beside him stood Sirius.

"I should finish summarizing these reports…" Nick mumbled. "Crouch wants them on his desk before I leave."

"It's not like he will notice," Sirius snorted. "He has already left. Besides, he's never going to read those reports, you know. It's just punishment for you."

Nick sighed. This was his first day back at the Auror department since the duelling accident. He had been given two weeks suspension, without pay, and now when he was back, he was confined to desk-work for the next three months. All things considered, Nick was well aware he had gotten off very lightly. But since Nancy had survived, even though her heart had stopped beating for a few seconds and had decided not to press charges, the punishment hadn't been near as severe as it could have been.

Something else that may have lightened the verdict was that James, Sirius, Moody, Frank and Alice had spoken up for him: that what had happened to Michaela had had a severe effect on him, and made Nick act out of character. Most probably the lack of Aurors and the state of the Wizarding World in general had also had an impact. The Ministry couldn't afford to just dismiss someone, as every man was needed. "I deserve it," Nick said firmly. "You three go on without me."

James sighed, and was about to speak up again, when the entire building shook and the four friends spun around in shock as a giant explosion occurred in the corner of the room: a large fireball had blown through the wall, and glass, debris and people, who had been standing at the wrong place at the wrong time, flew through the air. An alarm blared, and then, Death Eaters – dozens of them – appeared, rushing into the room.

"Merlin…" Nick whispered, eyes wide. Suddenly, Frank and Alice were there: Alice's robes had a tear on the arm, which was bleeding.

"Get yourself together and organized!" Frank snapped at them, his eyes blazing. "The new Auror graduates and the trainees with the most experience must take point: lead and instruct the new recruits, and try to keep them out of the worst of the fighting."

"Sirius, get to a working fireplace and floo Azkaban – they need to hear what's going on, and we need backup," Alice ordered him. "We can't hold off these kinds of numbers for long. Vandom, cover him." The two Longbottoms ran back into the pandemonium, and Sirius immediately took off, running towards the exit, ducking the spells flying in his direction, followed by Nick. As the two disappeared out of sight, James tried to take charge of the panicking recruits, most of which hadn't been in a battle before.

"Aurors, to me!" He shouted, shooting sparks up into the air. "Don't let the Death Eaters get through to the rest of the Ministry." He ran forward and engaged the swarming Death Eaters in combat. Over the sounds of spellfire, Frank and Alice's voices could be heard, shouting instructions and directives at everyone else, to try and get some resemblance of strategic order in the chaotic battle. The new recruits seemed to calm when they had people tell them what to do, and they finally managed to pull themselves together and fight back.

"James!"

James quickly stunned the Death Eater he was duelling, and ran across the room, meeting Lily, who had yelled, halfway. The married couple ducked behind a desk, which had fallen sideways. "Lily!" He yelped. "What are you doing here?"

The redhead's hair was in disarray and her green eyes wild, as she answered: "I was in the Atrium, and was about to leave, but the floo-exits had stopped working. And then the Death Eaters just appeared. On the Apparation-points, fireplaces used to enter the Ministry, from within the lifts…" She quickly stunned a Death Eater trying to approach James from behind. "And as I ran to get you, I saw them appear from offices used by Ministry employees! They're everywhere – on every floor. When did Voldemort manage to recruit so many people? Where did he find these kinds of numbers?"

Seeing Lily was about to begin to hyperventilate, James grabbed her. "Don't panic," he told her, looking deep into her eyes. "Focus. The only reason you're upset right now is because you were taken by surprise. Don't let them see you're afraid. I've seen you fight – I've seen you in battle, and you're amazing, and the Death Eaters should be the ones to fear you."

Lily nodded and took a deep breath. James could almost see her eyes harden as determination surrounded her. "You're right." The two left their cover behind the desk, and immediately jumped back into the fray.

* * *

As Sirius and Nick left the Auror Headquarters, they immediately found that was not the only place the Death Eaters had entered: Voldemort's followers seemed to be in every corridor and room that they passed.

"This way!" Sirius yelled, and ran down the corridor, battling Death Eaters on the way. "Arthur Weasley's office is in a small corridor on this level," he panted at Nick as they ran. "He's a staunch supporter of Dumbledore, _and_ he has a fireplace. Hopefully, the private office floos haven't been blocked. And the corridor is so shabby that it might have remained unnoticed."

"What about the fireplaces in the Atrium?" Nick asked.

"Considering how large this attack seem to be, I doubt the floo-exits in the Atrium have remained open," Sirius said. "Voldemort wants to take us down, completely. The attack on Azkaban…it must have been a hoax. He can't possibly have the numbers to attack both places at ones. At least I hope not."

As they reached the Misuse of Muggle Articifacts' office, they saw the door had been blown off its hinges, and the room was dark. "Arthur?" The two Aurors lit their wands. "Are you there?" The office was empty, but it was clear Death Eaters had been here: tables and other furniture were overturned or destroyed, papers and documents scattered everywhere, and there was blood on the floor. "I hope he's alright…" He muttered to himself.

Sirius walked to the fireplace, which luckily seemed to be without damage, and he found some floo-powder as well. "Yes! Azkaban prison!" He yelled, and stuck his head through, delighted it seemed to work. "Hello?" He could only see darkness. "Is there anyone there?" there was no answer, and Sirius frowned, and stuck his arms forwards as well, reaching into the black, yelping as he came into contact with a wall of some sort, blocking his access to the other side, and giving him an awful, electrical shock that seemed to travel through his entire body.

He pulled his head back, and looked up at Nick. "Well, I got through alright, but something is blocking the fireplace at their end." Sirius swallowed, shaking his head to clear it: he felt dizzy, and he found it hard to think.

"Do you think Voldemort has attacked the prison as well, after all?" Nick asked in a hushed voice, not wanting anyone to hear someone was in here.

"Yes…maybe," Sirius said after a short while, having trouble to get out the words he wanted to say. He stood up, but swayed dangerously on his feet. "I'm guessing a few Death Eaters were sent to Azkaban to keep the Aurors there from leaving. With the floo blocked, there's no way anyone can get here to help before tomorrow."

"So we're on our own." Nick frowned at Sirius, who was now blinking and rubbing his eyes furiously. "Sirius? Are you alright?"

"I don't know," Sirius admitted, coughing. "I got hit with a shock of some kind. To be honest, I don't feel very well..."

"Maybe we should sit down a bit. I reckon this room is pretty safe, for at least a little while," Nick suggested.

"No!" Sirius exclaimed, blinking his eyes again. The foggy vision that had affected him after standing disappeared. "No," he repeated, slightly calmer, and he began to move towards the door. "The Aurors need all the help they can get. Let's get back to Headquarters."

Unfortunately, that wouldn't turn out to be very easy. As they exited the room, they came to an abrupt stop. Their way back was blocked. Though the large open area standing between the two friends and the corridor leading down to the DMLE was fairly devoid of Death Eaters compared to the rest of the level, the two Death Eaters that did stand there made them pause.

"Hello, cousin." Bellatrix Lestrange giggled, cocking her head. Voldemort's most notorious follower was flanked by a masked Death Eater. "And you brought a friend. How thoughtful of you."

"Bella," Sirius spat, and then glanced at the unknown Death Eater. "And who are you, then?" He asked. "My cousin's lap-dog?"

The masked Death Eater said nothing, but tensed slightly.

"I'm bored." Bella stated suddenly, after the four had stood staring at each other for several seconds, no one making a move. A grin appeared on her face. "Let's play, cousin. It's been so long…_CRUCIO!"_

Sirius tried to duck, but found his body refused to obey him: the Unforgivable hit him straight on, and he screamed in pain as he collapsed. His vision disappeared again, fading away – and so did his other senses, along with the ability to speak. Bellatrix frowned, ending the curse, completely perplexed as her cousin stopped reacting.

"Sirius!" Nick yelled, pulling out his wand. "Get away from him," he yelled, aiming out a curse at the witch: now, there was no need to hold back.

* * *

"Frank!" Alice yelled, pointing wildly at the destroyed wall the Death Eaters used as their entering point. In the hole left in the wall, a dark, towering figure stood, observing the battle with critical eyes. Voldemort.

Frank immediately joined her. "We can't allow him to join the battle," he exclaimed, seeing the Dark Lord pull out his wand. "It will be a massacre."

Alice gave him a grim look. "Together?"

Frank nodded, eyes narrowed, clenching his wand tightly in his hand. "Always," he said, and the two Longbottoms slowly made their way in Voldemort's direction.

"What's this?" The Dark lord hissed when he caught sight of them.

"Your downfall," Alice spat, and without wasting any time, she began to fire spells at the Dark Lord, Frank doing the same.

Voldemort laughed. "You amuse me," he said, as he batted their spells away – with some trouble. "And you have great power. Together, we could experience so many amazing things."

"I'm not really into threesomes," Frank snarked and the Dark Lord's red eyes blazed in fury.

"You dare to mock me?" He hissed, and suddenly, the Longbottoms found themselves on the defensive, as the Dark Lord took charge of the duel.

"Just stating a fact," Frank panted, as he ducked an 'Avada Kedavra.' "It's not my fault you're so sensitive. Did I hit a sore spot?"

Alice stared at her husband incredulously, without stopping her own spellwork. Inwardly, she was screaming at him to shut up: did he have a death wish? Antagonizing the Dark Lord more than they already had by challenging him personally was not only foolish, it was suicidal!

As if sensing her thoughts, Frank threw her a reassuring look as the Dark Lord screamed in fury, stopping his own attack for a second or two, enough for Frank to get in another hit. Alice finally saw what he was doing – by making Voldemort even angrier, he was hoping to distract him, and make him lose his concentration. It might work.

"You must have," she said out loud, willing her voice not to tremble as she went back on the offensive. "Or he wouldn't have had such a loud reaction. Really unbecoming of a Dark Lord, don't you think?"

Voldemort seemed to snap at last, and in one long arch with his arm let loose a blindingly white spell that hit both Alice and Frank, throwing them back several feet, where they hit the wall across the room, and fell down, dazed. "NO ONE DEFIES ME!" He screamed, angrily cutting people down one by one as he saw them. The few and the foolish Aurors who tried to stop him or take him down in person like Alice and Frank, where killed within the blink of an eye, the Dark Lord easily defeating them by barely a twitch of his wand.

It seemed he was done playing around.

* * *

"We have to get out of here!" Buffy exclaimed, as she dug through the debris blocking the fireplace. "Can't you just…magic the stones away, or something? You're supposed to be wizards!"

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Dumbledore sighed. "It's not just stones. I recognized the first spell that hit the fireplace. It is one that blocks the floo-connections leading from it completely. Anyone who tries to get through from this end will find themselves killed, burned up, from the inside."

Buffy paled. "And if anyone tries from the other end?" She asked, voice trembling. "If the Ministry is under attack, someone will try to reach us here, sooner or later."

"They won't die, but get a nasty shock known to impair their physical condition for at least twelve hours, sometimes even longer, depending on the strength of the spell," Dumbledore said. "A truly nasty, dark ward. One side of it kills, the other leaves you incapacitated and close to defenceless, and it may take up to a week to recover completely. And there is no known counter to the condition – all you can do is wait until it wears off."

"Well, can't you disable it?" Remus asked, horrified.

"I'm afraid not." Dumbledore shook his head. "Only the caster can."

Everyone turned to stare at the Death Eater.

"Fix it," Buffy spat.

"I never bothered to learn how to reverse it," the Death Eater smirked evilly. "A precaution, in case I was captured. I don't deal with pain very well, as I'm sure you noticed."

Buffy glared. "Can I hit him again?"

"No," Remus said. "We need to focus on getting off this island. How many boats are there?"

"Two or three in the boathouse on the shore," Moody said.

"We destroyed them," the Death Eater spoke up gleefully, enjoying the way his words made them sag in defeat. "And we burned all the broomsticks we could find."

"Is no one an animagus who can swim or fly?" Buffy asked desperately, out of ideas. "Didn't think so," she muttered, when no one gave her an answer.

"What about Fawkes?" Remus asked, and everyone turned to look at the Headmaster. "Your Phoenix. Could he get us out of here?"

Slowly, Dumbledore smiled. "Yes."

* * *

James was in the middle of the room, surrounded by Death Eaters on all sides: when he felled one, another took his place. He and Lily had gotten separated early on, and so, he felt extreme relief, when suddenly, she appeared beside him, helping him fight.

Finally, the amount of Death Eaters around him seemed to recede somewhat, especially when two other Aurors joined them, and divided their attention, allowing both Potters time to breathe. "Have you seen Nick and Sirius return?" James asked, while transfiguring a Death Eater's mask into a large spider, causing him to scream like a girl and distracting him so much that he was hit with a curse thrown by another Death Eater.

"No," Lily said grimly, and then both Potters turned as they heard a furious scream.

"NO ONE DEFIES ME!"

They paled as they caught sight of the Dark Lord, having just hit Frank and Alice with a spell that sent them flying, and then continued on to kill everyone in his sight without restraint or mercy. "It's becoming a slaughter," Lily said tearfully, looking at the bodies decorating the room.

"We must distract him," James said abruptly, and turned to run in Voldemort's direction. Frank and Alice were slowly climbing to their feet, and were immediately accosted by Death Eaters, forcing them back into the fray.

"What?" Lily yelped, grabbing his arm. "Are you _insane?"_

"Look," James snapped. "No one else will. I doubt Frank and Alice are in any shape to do it again, even without all those Death Eaters keeping them busy, and you see what he's doing. No one stands a chance against him!"

"And you think you can?" Lily asked incredulously.

"No," James answered grimly. "But perhaps I can distract him long enough for more help to arrive, preferably Dumbledore."

"James..." Lily bit her lip. "I don't think anyone's coming."

"I know," James said sadly, having come to the same conclusion. "But I have to try." He smiled weakly. "There's nowhere to escape, Lily. The Ministry is overrun. If this is going to be our grave, I'd rather go down fighting."

Lily nodded. "Let's do it, then."

"Oh, I'm talking about _me,"_ James said, laughing incredulously. _"You're_ not going to challenge any Dark Lord's today. You're going to survive."

"James, if you think I'm going to let you fight him yourself, you truly are a moron," Lily said fondly. "It's together, or not at all."

For a long while, James only looked at her, and then, he nodded. "Alright." He smiled humourlessly. "I should know better than to argue with you."

Lily squeezed his hand, and James took a deep breath: "VOLDEMORT!" He yelled, his voice carrying clearly across the room.

The Dark Lord turned, his red eyes staring straight at him. "Who dares to speak my name?" He asked, walking forwards, cutting down the Aurors getting in his way.

James raised his head proudly. "I did."

Amused, Voldemort looked him up and down. "You're a Potter," he said in realisation.

"That I am."

"James Potter," Voldemort continued, smirking, when he saw James' confused look. "Oh, yes, I have heard quite a bit about you. Only bad things, I'm afraid."

"Wouldn't have it any other way." James clenched his wand in his fist tightly.

Voldemort glanced to James' left, catching sight of Lily. "And what's this? Your wife, isn't that correct, Potter? Lily..." He said, tasting her name on his tongue as he inspected her. "Yes, I can see the attraction...why he wants you," he mumbled, almost to himself, and James' eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Who?" He asked. "Who are you talking about?"

"No one of your concern," Voldemort said, and then continued: "You're a powerful wizard, James, but with me, you could become even more powerful. I can give you glory, safety...the heads of your enemies. Name your price, and it's yours. To have you – and your wife - on my side would be an honour."

"Why don't you stick your wand up your arse first, and then we'll talk," James said sarcastically, and Lily added: "I will never join you, Voldemort, so you might as well stop asking now before you embarrass yourself."

"That's a no for me too, by the way," James said a little too sweetly. "Unless you missed it, somehow."

"A pity," Voldemort shrugged. "But no big loss. I never expected you to." And then, in a quick flash, he raised his wand. _"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

James was even quicker. As the dark curse sped towards him, a flick of his wand made a piece of broken debris fly up and intercept the curse, and then sent off a silent one of his own. For the next couple of minutes, James and Lily duelled Voldemort, using all their combined abilities to keep him occupied: James utilized his aptitude for Transfiguration by transfiguring the objects around them to distract and attack the Dark Lord. Lily on the other hand made the most of her talent for charms; hexes and curses leaving her wand at a fast speed.

Finally, Voldemort lowered his wand, raising a shield around himself to keep Lily and James to keep firing, as it intercepted all of their spells and only made it stronger. "Impressive," he admitted. "But child's play, compared to what I can teach you."

"Are you slow?" James asked impatiently. "I've said no once already!"

"Just making certain," Voldemort said. "Remember this, James Potter: today is the day you have sealed your fate. Yours, and your wife's, with your foolish actions of defiance. No one challenges me and lives to tell the tale. No one."

"We'll see about that, won't we?" James asked, smirking as he saw a flash of fire appear a few feet behind the Dark Lord. "I already know one – Dumbledore."

A bird's piercing cry filled the air, and the Dark Lord spun around, coming eye to eye with Hogwarts Headmaster, who had flamed into the Auror Headquarters with the help of Fawkes. "You should have known better than to come here, Tom," Dumbledore said slowly, eyeing the protective bubble around him with a critical eye. "I never took you for someone who uses shields."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," the Dark Lord said, glancing at the Aurors now appearing alongside the Headmaster, as Fawkes flamed back and forth between the Ministry and Azkaban to get them.

"You are surrounded Tom. Surrender your wand."

"Never," Voldemort hissed. "We have what we came for anyway." He touched his Dark Mark, and disappeared, along with every other Death Eater, even the unconscious and wounded ones, as long as they hadn't been bound by magical ropes or killed.

* * *

Nick was duelling the masked Death Eater: Bellatrix had batted away his first curse like it was an annoying fly and had left the battle to her companion, only interceding when she found it necessary. Instead, the witch was kneeling by Sirius, who was still lying on the floor where he had collapsed, unable to see, speak, hear, move and feel. His senses had been deadened – he was unable to make out what was going on around him, and that, made him more terrified than anything else he had experienced. Even the pain of Crucio would be welcomed.

"What happened to my cousin?" Bellatrix asked Nick, poking at Sirius' chest, pouting when she didn't get a reaction. "He's no fun like this."

"I don't know," Nick answered through gritted teeth, blocking an unknown curse sent by the masked Death Eater. "He was trying to floo Azkaban..."

Bellatrix burst out into cackles as she realised what had happened. "Oh, my itty, bitty cousin had a run in with the dark ward we set up! How lovely!" She clapped her hands joyfully. Her laughter abruptly stopped, as Nick sent of a spell that hit the mask of the Death Eater he was duelling and it fell off.

Nick's eyes widened. "You!"

"Aww," Bella stomped her foot. "Wormy, you're supposed to be our secret agent! You can't be a secret if you show yourself. Now you have to die," she turned to Nick, disarming him easily, "and I _really_ liked you!"

Peter trembled as he pointed his wand at his former classmate, who was still staring at him, too shocked to try and move out of the way._ "Avada Kedavra!" _Peter intoned, watching as the green curse hit Nick's chest, killing him instantly. "I'm sorry," he mumbled to himself, picking up the pieces of his mask, repairing it and putting it back on his face. A second later, both he and Bealltrix gasped as they felt their marks burned.

"Our master is calling," Bella breathed out. "Time to go home, Wormy. Bye, bye, cousin." She waved at the motionless Sirius, who was completely unaware of what had taken place around him. "Next time, please give me a better challenge. I would kill you right now, but it's no fun if you don't notice it happening!" Another second passed, and then, the only person who remained in the room was Sirius, trapped in his completely useless body.

* * *

_**Published: **__29/12 -10  
**Edited: **12/01 -11_

* * *

**Trivia**

- The songs Buffy sings at Azkaban is '99 Bottles of Beer,' a traditional USA/Canadian song with a repetitive format, and its variation, '99 Kettles of Soup on the Heat.'  
- The background story of Dorcas Meadowes was partly inspired by Dorcas, a disciple of Joppa, found in the Book of Acts (at 9:36-42) from the Bible. She was a dressmaker, who made clothes for the poor in her village.


	23. Punished

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**27 June**

_CATASTROPHE AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC  
__DEATH TOLL STILL UNCERTAIN_

_Yesterday, You-Know-Who dealt the Wizarding World another severe blow when he and his followers boldly and without impediment attacked the Ministry of Magic itself. The complete death toll is still uncertain, but it is clear that at least half of those within the Ministry at the time the attack took place are __either dead or badly injured._

_Why did__ not the Aurors do a better job in stopping the Death Eaters? The fault lies with Minister Tool himself. After receiving a tip about a possible attack on Azkaban prison, the Minister sent the majority of their forces to the island. Left behind at the Ministry where only trainees and Aurors with no actual battle experience. _

_Five minutes prior to the attack on the Ministry, a smaller amount of Death Eaters also attacked the prison. They were all easily apprehended by the large force in place, but not before they completed the__ir actual mission: blocking off the floo-connection leading from the island. With no backup able to reach the Ministry, You-Know-Who and his followers easily took over the building, the loyal employees within taken completely by surprise._

_If not for Albus Dumbledore, who ingeniously enough decided to use his Phoenix to transport himself and the Aurors from Azkaban to the Ministry, foiling He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's trap and forcing him to retreat, perhaps the battle would have had an even worse outcome._

_But perhaps the greatest heroes are four who are much less known, but who we are doubtlessly going to report more about in the future, if yesterday was any indication: Frank and Alice Longbottom, and James and Lily Potter. _

_If not for the quick thinking of the Longbottoms, the most senior Aurors in the Ministry, who managed to organize the few Aurors they had at their disposal and fight back, there is no doubt the losses would be even greater. The two Aurors even duelled You-Know-Who himself, something they have in common with both Potters._ _They too challenged and duelled You-Know-Who, and, amazingly enough, held their own, despite their young age, daringly and without fear distracting him until Dumbledore arrived._

_Today, we hail the Longbottoms and the Potters, two couples who have managed what others couldn't, except for Dumbledore himself: __facing Voldemort in person and surviving. The Wizarding World needs more people like them, and less people like our Minister of Magic. Perhaps you think Minister Tool should not be blamed, as no one could have foreseen the attack on Azkaban: but he should have. It is his job, his duty to protect his citizens, and he failed. To send every Auror to Azkaban was not only a mistake – it was a fool's move. And we, at the Daily Prophet, do not want a fool for a Minister. Do you?_

James put down the Daily Prophet, a frown decorating his forehead. "They're calling us heroes."

"Is that so bad?" Lily asked. "It's great for morale."

"Perhaps…but at the same time, if the worship goes too far, people will begin to expect someone else to end the war for them, like with Dumbledore – everyone puts their hopes on him," James said. "You and I weren't the only ones fighting yesterday."

"Well, at least it's proof that ordinary, average people can face Voldemort and survive," Lily said logically.

"You don't get it, Lils," James shook his head. "We're not _ordinary_ anymore – because we duelled Voldemort, we're now as far from average as you can get. I never thought the day would come when I would stop enjoying being in the centre of attention, but it has. This is not the sort of attention I want! I was hoping to be an example, not some sort of larger-than-life hero. Other people are going to look up to us and expect things from us. I went to buy some milk at the store this morning, and a witch said I should get a house-elf and save my energy for other, more important things. She even offered to sell me hers!" Lily couldn't help but chuckle at his obvious frustration. "It's not funny!" James protested. "We might have house-elves but that doesn't mean I can't shop for myself once in awhile!"

"James, just try to ignore it," Lily said tenderly. "We know who we really are, and that's the most important thing. People can be very blind when it comes to things such as these; everyone likes a fairytale where the protagonists win, and currently, we are them. It will be someone else tomorrow. It will blow over: I promise. By the way," she said with a raised eyebrow, "since when do we have house-elves, and how come you never told me?"

James looked confused. "I thought you knew. Of course we have house-elves – the Potter family is pretty old and prestigious, you know. They're rather old: they were around when my grandfather was still head of the family, and they're pretty traditional in the sense that Toby and Saffy prefers to stay out of sight."

Two identical 'pops' were heard and Lily gasped as two old, but well-groomed house-elves appeared in front of them. "Master called?" The male one, Toby, asked, dipping forward into a bow.

"Toby, Saffy: I'd like to formally introduce you to my wife, Lily."

"We are honoured to meet you, mistress Potter," Saffy exclaimed, large eyes staring up at the redhead in near worship, but also some shyness.

"Likewise," Lily said, slightly overwhelmed. "And please, call me Lily."

"Yes, Lily mistress," Saffy nodded.

"No, just Lily," Lily instructed.

James smirked when both house-elves broke out into horrified expressions. "Give it up, Lils – that's not going to happen. You may go back to whatever you were doing," he told them, and with a bow and a curtsey, Toby and Saffy disappeared with another 'pop.'

"What do you have them do?" Lily asked curiously. "I'm the one who cooks."

"Haven't you noticed how free from dust the manor is? And how our clothes are never wrinkled, or dirty?"

Lily frowned. "I never really thought about it," she admitted. "But house-elves explain a lot of things."

James smiled. "Well, don't be afraid to ask them if you want something. And...I probably don't even need to ask you this, but...be nice to them?"

"Of course I will be!" Lily exclaimed and James grinned.

* * *

**29 June**

"Though we managed to force Voldemort and his Death Eaters to retreat before passing through the entire Ministry, it seems they succeeded in their mission: their plan was not to take over – at least not this time – but to grab important documents." Moody spoke. "We are not yet clear on what is missing, exactly, but so far, it seems Voldemort has all the strategies and battle-plans the Law Enforcement has put together, economic statements, classified documents, and the Unspeakables have told us – reluctantly – that their library was broken into and a lot of important, ancient texts were stolen."

The Order members exchanged grim looks.

"That's not all," the battle-hardened Auror continued. "Everyone who was supposed to be at the Ministry at the time of the attack have been accounted for, one way or another. All except one. A historian, specialising in cartography, who was working down in the Ministry archives is missing. We believe he was snagged by the Death Eaters."

"What would they want with a historian?" Mandy looked confused.

"We have as of yet no idea, but we don't think it can be good," Frank said. "And we're pretty certain he didn't leave with them of his own free will."

"Could it have to do with the book?" Buffy mused, and Eliza's head snapped around to stare at the Slayer.

"The book?" She asked in a trembling voice. "Are you talking about the book stolen from my mother?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said kindly. "We have concluded what it contains – or we have a fair idea – and it is in Voldemort's hands. Luckily, I don't believe he has managed to figure out its secrets, or we would surely know about it." Eliza clenched her fists. "You are right, of course, Buffy," the Headmaster continued. It is as good a reason as any, and I should have thought of the possibility myself. If I were to guess, I would say Tom is trying to find a location somewhere...but since the book must be very old, I doubt he would be able to make heads or tails of what place it describes with modern maps."

"And the historian will be able to help him," Alice sighed.

"If only we hadn't fallen for his plan," Marlene said ruefully. "We should have realised Azkaban was a distraction for something even bigger."

"What's done is done," Peter piped up. "All we can do is to learn from our mistake."

"Wisely said, indeed, Peter," Dumbledore agreed jovially.

The meeting broke up, but there was someone who didn't move: Sirius. The animagus sat almost completely hidden in a dark corner of the room, and Mandy frowned. "Sirius?" She approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Sirius was pale, with deep circles beneath his eyes, and he seemed to be trembling slightly, shudders passing through his body at uneven intervals. "No," he admitted croakily. It had been hours before he'd been found at the floor outside the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office.

Alice, who had found him, had at first believed him dead, until she felt his pulse. Then, there had been five more hours before the effect the ward had had on his body began to wear off, and the day after, Sirius had spent in bed as his senses returned. During the entire day, they seemed to shut on and off – one second, he'd be fine, the next, he'd lose his vision or hearing again. Even now, three days afterwards, he still had some trouble: he still suffered from muscle-spasms and tremors. "I was so useless," he whispered, and Mandy said nothing, glad he was finally talking about it. "Nick was killed, right next to me, and I didn't even notice."

"You can't keep blaming yourself," Mandy said, hugging him. "Nick wouldn't want you to, and there was no way for you to foresee the ward on the other end of the floo."

"I should have been more careful," Sirius said. "We could have stayed hidden in the office. No one would have noticed us. We would have been fine...Nick would have lived..."

"You don't know that," Mandy said logically.

"After Bella saw us...we could have run back into the office, barricaded ourselves in," Sirius continued, seemingly not listening to Mandy as he kept going through possible outcomes, if only he had done something _differently. _"It wasn't that long after I collapsed that you returned, was it? Or maybe it was...I don't know, after all." He laughed humourlessly. "How could I, trapped as I was, in my own body."

Mandy sighed, knowing the effect the ward had had on him had scared her boyfriend more than he wanted to admit. "Sirius...let's go home," she prompted. "You need more rest." That Sirius didn't protest was a clear sign how awful he felt.

* * *

After the meeting, James grabbed Buffy's arm. "Can I talk to you for a second?" He asked. "In private."

Buffy nodded, wondering what he wanted. "Of course."

The two left the house they had been in for the meeting – Benjy's – and stopped at the porch, Buffy waiting patiently for James to begin speaking. When he did, his question surprised her. "What's it like? Being the Slayer, I mean?"

Buffy frowned, cocking her at the marauder slightly. "Why do you ask?"

James' lips twitched. "Call it curiosity.

"Alright." Buffy was silent for a few seconds, before she spoke. "Mostly...terrifying," she admitted. "And a burden, in one way, and a relief in others."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, let's take one aspect at a time, shall we?" Buffy said. "The terrifying part is pretty self-explanatory. I mean, I fight monsters, sometimes monsters a lot bigger and stronger than me, and every time I go out to do that duty, I can't help but ask myself; 'is this the day I die?' I'm not afraid of death – not anymore – but I'm also well aware that I've been lucky. By all rights, I should have died when I was sixteen, but because of a friend of mine, I didn't." She shrugged. "Ever since then, each day seems like a blessing. I'm sure you know that the average life expectancy for a Slayer is very low. Most aren't likely to – and don't – survive past their eighteenth birthday."

"You have," James pointed out, and Buffy laughed.

"Yeah, but I'm not average, am I?" She cocked an eyebrow. "But seriously though, I can't help but wonder if the only reason I'm still alive is because I'm here, and not in my world. Even with the danger of the war, demons are pretty much non-existent here, as you know, and even though Voldemort has hired vampires, I haven't run into that many." After a short pause, she continued: "Besides, I think I'm pretty different from other Slayers. I surround myself with friends and family...I have reasons to survive."

"So...that was the terrifying part," James concluded, running Buffy's words over in his mind. "What's the burden of it?"

"The responsibility," Buffy said promptly. "I felt it more in Sunnydale than here, knowing that I was one of few people aware and willing to face down the things that go bump in the night...one of few people able to stop the world from ending. And while I was mostly anonymous and I was never given any official recognition, the people who knew who I was looked up to me and expected me to fix things if they went to hell. They didn't say it out loud, of course, but I always felt it. And for every success, that grew. That's when I wished the most for normality, to be able to get back the blissful ignorance and innocence I had before I was called. Here, that burden is less, but it's still present, but mostly in the form of guilt. Because there aren't as many bad guys for me to kill, I feel that I'm not doing enough – not helping enough, and that's a rather big weight on my shoulders. I have been given these amazing powers – and can't utilize them in the way they're supposed to be used." Buffy chuckled humourlessly. "It's sort of ironic, really. In Sunnydale, I wished to be free from responsibility. Here, I have more freedom than I ever did in my world...and now I don't want it."

"And the ways it's a relief?"

"The relief is knowing that I'm strong," Buffy said. "I'm never going to be helpless. I can hold my own against everyone else, unless they're supernatural too. It's also a relief to see the faces of the people I help, afterwards. When they go on to live their lives, the knowledge that _I_ saved them, the knowledge that _I_ rid the world of a little more evil is the most rewarding feeling that makes the burden of being the Slayer a little easier to bear." She looked at James. "Now...tell me. Why did you want to know? And don't say it was just curiosity, because it wasn't."

James grinned. "You're right. It wasn't. Anyway, you know how the papers have been calling me and Lily heroes?" Buffy nodded. "I've been...floundering, sort of, how to deal with that. What better person to ask than the one who's more heroic than me, Lils, and Dumbledore put together?"

Buffy blushed. "Now you're exaggerating."

"Not at all," James said. "Dumbledore might have defeated Grindelwald, but he was _a lot _older than you when he did, with a lot more experience. And he hasn't stopped any apocalypses. You're not even twenty yet, and you have done so much."

"Someone had to," Buffy mumbled.

"True," James acknowledged, "but even when you became the Slayer, you didn't have to. You could have chosen to hide, and when you came here, you didn't have to acknowledge your calling at all. You could have been normal. But you've chosen to help, again, and feel guilty for not doing enough!"

"My conscience wouldn't allow me anything else!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Also true...but your conscience is a part of what makes you a hero. Not everyone would have cared." James put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm proud to be your friend, Buffy Summers."

Buffy finally allowed herself to grin up at him. "Likewise, James Potter."

* * *

**2 July**

"You're depressed," Buffy noted, sensing Remus' emotions in the back of her head once she stepped into the living room after coming home from work. They had both gotten very good at blocking their emotions from each other; in controlling their bond, but every now and then, their feelings would slip out, especially if they were particularly strong.

Remus chuckled ruefully, without looking away from the window he was staring out of mournfully. "Aren't I always?" He asked self-deprecatingly.

"Don't be ridiculous," Buffy said. "Of course you aren't!"

"It feels that way," Remus admitted, finally meeting her eyes. "I can't even remember a day I was truly, unrestrainedly happy – a good week with no bad news. There must have been, but I simply can't recall."

Buffy leaned her forehead against his. "What's the cause of your sadness today, then?" She asked, while inwardly wondering why she found herself attracted to guys who brooded for a majority of the time – with Angel, it had been the same.

"Elizabeth. It's her first birthday today."

Realization dawned on Buffy. Of course he would be depressed – this was the date his sister, whom he in all likelihood would never see again. And considering she was being raised by a pure-blooded, prejudiced family, who knew what kind of person she would end up becoming. To top it all off, today was also the one year-anniversary of his mother's death, since Dana had died soon after giving birth.

"Do you think she's happy, with the Baddocks?" Remus wondered.

"I'm sure they're taking good care of her," Buffy assured him, though she wasn't so certain. While she knew Elizabeth would probably never want for anything with the rich Baddocks, the Slayer wasn't so certain she would be truly happy. And since her adoptive family had decided not to tell Elizabeth of her origins, she would probably never know what she was missing out on.

"Yeah..." Remus muttered, turning to stare out the window again.

"Do you want to go visit your mother's grave?" Buffy suggested, after a couple minutes of silence.

Remus immediately looked up. "Could we?" He asked, looking hopeful. "I was planning to, but I'm sure it would be easier if I wasn't alone."

"Of course we can," Buffy told him. "Why didn't you just ask me this morning, before I left for work?"

"I don't want to be a bother," Remus muttered. "I'm sure you have better things to do."

"Remus, I love you," Buffy reminded him gently. "You could never be a bother."

"It's just I feel like I'm taking and taking, but never giving you anything back," Remus admitted.

"If that ever became the case, you can be sure I'd tell you, and not so gently either," Buffy told him, scoffing. "I'm not going to be a martyr of a girlfriend who suffers in silence: that's _not _my style, believe me."

Remus smiled slightly. "Alright."

* * *

"Ah, Wormtail, please, come inside." On trembling legs, Peter stepped forward, shuddering slightly when he heard his nickname pass the Dark Lord's lips, in a slightly mocking tone. "Bella had only good things to report about you after the attack on the Ministry," he began and Peter swelled with pride.

"I am honoured to serve you, my Lord," he said, puffing his chest up slightly pompously.

"And I'm more than aware of it, which is why I am giving you yet another opportunity to do so," Voldemort intoned. "The Potters. They defied me, and it cannot go unpunished."

Peter's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "B-but my Lord," he stuttered. "Y-you promised when I joined you that you would never hurt my friends."

"As long as they didn't attack me," Voldemort reminded, not so patiently. "I cannot let them go free from retribution, or other people may get the same idea."

"B-but – "

"Enough!" The Dark Lord waved his hand dismissively, and Peter's eyes bulged when he found his voice had been taken away. "When you joined me, you also promised that if it came down to your friends and me, you would choose me. You promised to give me your unending loyalty, no questions asked. Did you lie?"

Peter gasped as he suddenly found his vocal-chords working once again. "N-no, my Lord!" He swore. "I am your loyal servant. Always." His entire body shook with fear and panic.

"I hope, for your sake, that it's true," Voldemort hissed dangerously. "I am a patient man, Pettigrew. But even I have my limits, and insubordination among my followers is _not _acceptable. You will do as I command."

"Yes, my Lord," Peter nodded furiously.

"Good." Voldemort put his fingers together. "Potter's wife. Lily Evans. I want the address of her parents' home. I want to...pay my respects," he said sardonically, and Peter gulped.

"Y-you won't...harm them, will you, my Lord?" He asked fearfully.

"_CRUCIO!"_ Voldemort yelled in fury, and Peter fell to the floor, twitching and sobbing, between his screams and pain. "What did I just tell you, Pettigrew? DO NOT QUESTION ME! You forgot your place, again," the Dark Lord said, still holding the curse over the marauder. He let a few more seconds pass, before he lifted it, and gave him a disgusted look when he saw Peter had wet himself.

"I-I'm s-sorry," Peter sobbed. What had he done to deserve this treatment? Hadn't he been a good follower? Loyal? Why was he being punished like this? The ache he felt from his friends' sometimes less than considerate treatment was nothing compared to the pain he was put under when the Dark Lord got angry. He wondered, if, perhaps, he wouldn't have been better off if he had stayed loyal to them and the light, after all. But it was too late to look back.

"I tire of you, Pettigrew," the Dark Lord said. "You would do well to remember my favour can be taken away with a snap of a finger...and my favour is the only thing that's keeping you _alive."_

Peter gulped, inwardly vowing never to displease his master again. He would not feel any more regret over his decision to join the Dark Lord. He didn't dare to. He valued his life too much.

* * *

**6 July**

_MINISTER TOOL FINALLY SPEAKS UP_

_It has been over a week since You-Know-Who and his followers attacked the Ministry, and yesterday, during a small press conference, Minister Tool finally released an official statement, printed below in its fullness, verbatim:_

'_Dear citizens of the Wizarding World. It grieves me to see our country ravaged by war, and the attack on our Ministry has hit us all hard. I too lost friends and dear colleagues, and I wish we could turn back the clock, and do it differently._

_Alas, we cannot and must now move on. I know that many are calling for my resignation, and I say to you all, I should have investigated the tip about the attack on Azkaban prison I got before acting. But I didn't. I acted on a piece of information because I felt I could not ignore it. I should have responded to the threat differently. But I didn't. And we all paid the price for my folly._

_I pray for the souls of those who were brutally murdered, and I thank the courageous Ministry personnel who bravely stood against an enemy despite overwhelming odds. I especially thank Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom, and James and Lily Potter. In these times, we need heroes and fearless leaders more than ever. I am not fearless, and I freely admit that I never expected to be Minister under these circumstances, and acknowledge that therefore, I may not be the best person for the job. _

_A__s such, I humbly beg you this: give me a year. A year to make up for a dreadful mistake. If no solution has been found to end this war by the end of that year, I promise to freely surrender my office to someone better equipped._

_Thank you.'_

_We, at the Daily Prophet, must acknowledge that the apology given by Minister Tool is a long time coming. But we also acknowledge that it is too little, too late. An apology cannot bring back the dead. And he even pointed out his own shortcomings, admitting that maybe, someone else should be given a chance to do what he has failed to do. He asks us to give him a year. He has already had several. And yet, we, at the Daily Prophet, are willing to give him that chance, proving that he shows that he has learnt from his mistakes, and that we, the public, see a change._

_Should he fail again, we, at the Daily Prophet, would like to see a Minister not afraid to act. Prime candidates for the post would be Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of the Magical Law Enforcement, Millicent Bagnold or Edgar Bones, both respected members of our community and members of the Wizengamot. _

"Well, it looks like we'll have a new Minister of Magic in a year," Buffy muttered, knowing from her dream, if it was prophetic, that the war would be far from over in twelve months. "And can I just say, the Daily Prophet is one of the worst papers I have ever read. It is so biased."

"You don't believe Tool will succeed?" Lily asked her best friend. The two were having lunch together at the Leaky Cauldron.

"No. I want to, but I don't," Buffy said. "He's even admitted his own weaknesses, something a man in a position of power never should. Modesty is all well and good, but in this case, it was stupid, and will only serve to lower the morale."

"I agree," Lily said. "Who do you wish to see in the post, if Tool is forced to resign?"

"Well, I think either you or James would be perfect for the job," Buffy said lightly.

Lily's jaw dropped. "You're not serious?"

Buffy snorted. "Of course not. I hate politics and politicians, and the further we all stay away from them, the better. That's not to say I think you would be bad at it. Actually, I'm not sure who I would want. Not Crouch, though."

Lily and Buffy shuddered in unison. "Vile man," Lily agreed. "I don't know anything about Bagnold, so, of the three candidates mentioned, I think Edgar would do great. At least we know he's loyal to the cause, since he's a member of the Order."

Buffy nodded in agreement.

* * *

While Buffy and Lily were enjoying lunch together, Remus was meeting with the Headmaster in his office. "I would like you to do me yet another great favour," Dumbledore said.

"Another mission?" Remus asked, frowning.

"Yes. With the entirety of Greyback and his pack on Voldemort's side, I fear it is only a matter of time until he tries to recruit other werewolves as well."

"With all due respect, sir," Remus said, "I doubt I will have better luck with the other British werewolves. They will doubtlessly have heard about my attempt in Greyback's, and the majority of the smaller packs tend to follow his lead. They're too afraid of him to dare do anything else."

"I agree completely, but I was not speaking of the British packs. I was talking about lycanthropes abroad," Dumbledore said, smiling at him kindly.

Remus blinked. "Abroad?" He asked.

"Yes. Romania, to be exact."

"Let me get this straight," Remus said slowly. "You want me to travel to Romania?"

"Indeed." Dumbledore nodded. "Considering your own condition, you are the only one who possibly could be accepted. I'm sure you already know that there are many packs there, living in the wild."

"To be honest, Headmaster, I have no wish to travel to Romania," Remus admitted.

"Sometimes, we must all sacrifice our comfort for the greater good," Dumbledore said, patting his hand in a grandfatherly way. "You do not have to be gone for long. Two weeks, tops. I just want you to see where the wind sways, so to speak. Of course, if you manage to convince them to remain neutral, or perhaps even join our side, it would be most welcome."

Reluctantly, Remus agreed to Dumbledore's suggestion. Anything to feel useful, he supposed. "Alright. I'll do it," he said, while inwardly bemoaning how he was going to tell Buffy without the Slayer biting his head off.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore beamed. "I am sure I do not need to tell you to be careful, and watch yourself. Don't say anything that might compromise your position with the Death Eaters.

"About that," Remus said, "I think my luck with them had run its course." He bit his lip. "I haven't managed to figure out their real reasons behind their recruitment of me. And for over a month now, they haven't given me any information at all, and they have not made any attempts to meet with me either. I doubt anything will come out of that particular mission unless I actively join them."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "Well, let's take one thing at a time," he said at last. "Concentrate on your mission to Romania, and we'll speak more about your other assignment when you return."

Remus nodded.

* * *

**9 July**

"Robert, dear, have you heard anything from Lily lately?" Marie Evans wondered. "I worry about her. There are so many strange things happening all over the country, and I can't help but think it has something to do with magic."

"No, I haven't," Robert, Marie's husband and Lily's father said. "But I'm sure she would contact us if she was in any danger."

Marie looked at him doubtfully. "Do you really believe that? Robert, you do know what our daughter is like, don't you? She would never want us to be concerned over her." She sighed.

"You're right," Robert agreed. "Let's send her a letter, tomorrow, shall we? After all, we have her owl," he glanced at Lily's owl, Selene, sitting on her perch. Lily had left her with her parents so they would always have a way to contact her.

Marie nodded, relieved. "Yes, let's do that," she said. "I'll put a kettle on, shall I?"

Calm fell over the brick-house in Inverness, its occupants unaware that their peaceful existence was about to come to an end, in the form of three werewolves waiting across the street for the moon to rise. Fenrir Greyback looked at his two companions, and then at the sky, as the clear full moon began to rise. Sharp teeth glinted. "Showtime."

* * *

**10 July**

"Headmaster Dumbledore," James said, startled as he opened the door to Potter manor. "What a surprise. Lily and I were just about to head off to work."

"I'm afraid I have some bad news," the Headmaster said gravely, as Lily arrived, looking just as surprised at the Headmaster's presence.

"It's not Remus, is it?" Lily asked worriedly, knowing Buffy would be devastated if anything had befallen him while in Romania.

"No. I'm afraid it's your parents, Lily," Dumbledore said, and the red-head would have fallen if James hadn't been there to catch her.

"W-what?" She gasped. "My parents?"

"I'm sorry, Lily," the Headmaster said regretfully. "But last night they were attacked by werewolves. They didn't survive."

"Oh, Merlin..." Lily whispered. "Why?" She asked, looking up at the head of the Order, lips trembling. "Why were they killed? Do you know, or was it just...random?"

"I'm afraid not. The Dark Mark floated above the house and there was a fresh message on the wall when we arrived at the scene, early this morning, written in your owl's blood. Are you quite certain you want to know this, Lily?" He asked gently, when he saw her face take on a green tinge, and Lily nodded, clutching James' hand in hers.

"I must," she said.

"Very well," the Headmaster sighed. "It said: _Defiance is punishable by death."_

"What does that mean?" James asked. "The Evanses never did anything..."

"No, but we did," Lily said bitterly. "It's our fault." She choked slightly. "We defied Voldemort, and my parents paid the price."

* * *

_**Published: **__12/01 -11_

* * *

**Trivia**

- In the Harry Potter books the Daily Prophet is always on the Ministry's side. This time, the paper is against it, which makes for an interesting contrast.  
- Buffy's statement about Slayers not being likely to survive past their eighteenth birthday is made ignorant to the fact that those deaths are sometimes caused by the Watcher's Council's own Cruciamentum test (as seen in BTVS 3x12: Helpless), which is something to keep in mind when thinking on the statistics of a Slayer's average lifespan.  
- Greyback's glinting sharp teeth and "Showtime" line was inspired by the Sweet saying the same thing, with his own teeth glinting in BTVS 6x7: Once More, with Feeling.


	24. Decision

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**12 July**

Eliza put down the letter she had just received from her father with something akin to numbness. She shouldn't have been surprised at its contents – not really – but she had thought that her mother's death might have made him more understanding; that it might had led to him allowing her to live her life as she wanted.

But apparently not.

It had been almost a month since she had left France for England, and since then, her father had sent her many letters. The first few had been kind, begging her to return: that she was all he had left, and he didn't want to lose her like he'd lost her mother. But as the weeks passed by, his letters changed tone, becoming more demanding and cruel.

But never had she expected him to go this far.

Her father had ordered her to return home within a week. If she didn't, he would not only cut off all contact, but also from the de Mort name and fortune: she would become disowned, both penniless, and without a family.

"Mon dieu...what am I going to do?" She whispered out loud.

* * *

"I am so sorry, my dear, that I cannot help you decide," Dumbledore said regretfully.

"It is alright," Eliza smiled slightly. "I didn't expect you to. I know I should go back, or my father will be alone. And so will I. Our family will be destroyed even further. But I can't help but feel I'm supposed to stay," she said. "My heart is telling me to remain here."

"You should always listen to your heart," Dumbledore nodded wisely. "But at the same time, one must ask whether or not you think it's worth it? I have said it once before, Eliza – this is not your war, and I would not think any less of you if you chose to return home, to your own country."

Eliza looked down. "It felt so good, coming here," she said. "For the first time, I made a decision based on my own desires, on what _I _wanted to do and not what others expected of me. And I can't help but think that if I go back to France like my father has ordered me to, that decision will stop to matter. It will have been for nothing." Dumbledore was silent, letting her work out her own thoughts. "I have greatly enjoyed my independence this past month," Eliza continued. "I do not think I could let it go, without feeling like I have betrayed myself."

"To me, it rather sounds like you have already made a decision," Dumbledore said quietly when it seemed she was done speaking, looking at Eliza over his half-moon shaped glasses.

Eliza laughed weakly. "Yes, it does, doesn't it? Merde...am I being a fool, Dumbledore, if I choose to stay?"

"A decision that feels right is rarely foolish," Dumbledore said.

Eliza took a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't come to regret her choice. "You're right. I am going to stay in England," she said. "I still have enough savings to last me quite a while longer, but I'm going to have to start looking for a job."

"If it makes it easier, I am willing to offer you a place in Hogwarts staff, come September. We have an opening for the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. I must warn you, however," he added when he saw Eliza's blue eyes light up, "that the position is cursed. No one has lasted more than a year for a very long time."

"I think I will take my chances," Eliza said, eyes sparkling. "Merci, Dumbledore. Thank you so much. You have done so much for me. I doubt I will ever be able to repay you."

"Think nothing of it, child," Dumbledore said. "It has been my pleasure."

* * *

**14 July**

"It is so nice to have this little tradition of having tea together every Saturday," Augusta Longbottom said happily, pouring up tea for Frank and Alice. "You're both so busy during the week."

"Well, we are Aurors, mother," Frank said patiently, while inwardly wondering why he and Alice hadn't gotten their own place, but had decided to live in Longbottom manor. He loved his mother, he really did, but she could be so…domineering. Thank Merlin the manor was big. "We have a duty to do."

Augusta shook her head disapprovingly. "This duty of yours should not prevent you from coming home at a regular hour rather than in the middle of the night. I know of no one who insists on working so much overtime as you two."

"Well, the war – " Alice began, only to be interrupted by Augusta.

"A little war is not an excuse, Alice dear," she huffed. "There are more people fighting in it than you, and between your work at the Ministry and the one you do for Dumbledore – you know, in that Order which is supposed to be a secret – I think you do more than enough!"

Frank and Alice's jaws dropped. "You know about the Order?" Frank asked weakly, and his mother gave him a patronizing look.

"Of course I know about it," Augusta scoffed. "I'm your _mother _– I know about everything you get yourself into."

"Well, you haven't told anyone, have you, mother?" Frank asked worriedly, knowing how much his mother enjoyed letting her tongue waggle among her many acquaintances.

"I am not a complete imbecile," Augusta snapped. "Even if you sometimes treat me like one." She snorted. "I can't believe you thought you could have your little Order meetings in my own manor without me noticing, not to mention all the whispering you and Alice do, sneaking around in corners…I have never heard something so absurd!"

Alice and Frank blushed in unison.

"And you, Alice," Augusta continued, on a roll now, "you really should do a better job in keeping Frank restrained. My connections have my eyes on you, and I know very well about the insults my son threw Voldemort – threesomes, really!" She exclaimed.

Frank flinched, feeling rather like the little boy of four caught with his hand down the cookie-jar – literally. He might be over twenty now, but it didn't change the fact that his mother still scared him. Suddenly, he remembered the reason he and Alice hadn't moved out – when he had mentioned it, right before their wedding, his mother had thrown a giant fit, chewing them both out until they felt the size of an ant. Neither he nor Alice had dared mention it since. She was one intimidating woman!

"And while we're on the subject of sex, Frank, why haven't you and Alice given me a grandson to spoil yet?" Augusta demanded. "I'm not getting any younger, you know!"

Frank was lucky enough to not have to answer, when suddenly, alarms blared through the manor: the wards had been breached. Frank and Alice immediately stood up, in full alert. "You should barricade yourself in your bedroom," Frank told his mother.

Augusta just snorted, pulling out her wand. "Now you're being patronizing, Frank," she said. "Just because I don't have your and Alice's youth doesn't mean I'm useless in a fight! And this is _my_ manor, and if anyone is going to defend it, _I_ am! No Dark Lord is going to take a Longbottom down without a fight!"

Frank and Alice threw each other exasperated looks.

"I saw that!" Augusta said, and both Frank and Alice winced.

"It's not you they are after," Alice stressed, having expected this to happen, sooner or later. Both she and Frank had been at the Evanses home, seeing the message on the wall, and knowing they were next. "It's us."

Augusta snorted. "Of course it is. You were stupid enough to not only challenge, but outright insult, Voldemort. It is obvious he would come to have his revenge, sooner or later." Her eyes glinted.

Giving each other despairing glances, knowing there was no changing Augusta's mind, Frank and Alice pulled out their own wands. Frank immediately sent off his Patronus to Dumbledore, with a message of what was happening, hoping they could last long enough for backup to arrive.

Moving to the entrance hall, the three Longbottoms arrived just as the heavy doors were blasted off its hinges, revealing Rabastan Lestrange and Voldemort himself.

"Please, welcome, to our humble abode," Frank said, unable to help the sarcastic response from slipping out. "Only two of you? I must say I am disappointed – I was expecting a challenge."

"Manners, Frank," Augusta snapped. "That our guests are here to kill us does not justify being discourteous. We are _Longbottoms,_ and we will act accordingly."

As Rabastan turned to stare incredulously at the old woman, Voldemort's left red eye twitched dangerously. "Rodolphus, Crabbe and Goyle were knocked out by your wards," he hissed menacingly.

Alice snorted. "Sorry," she added hastily, seeing him turn his glare in her direction. "I just find it slightly ironic that the great Voldemort himself lost three of his Death Eaters to unconsciousness before he managed to disable a couple of wards."

Voldemort sneered. "Enough small-talk. I am certain you know why I have come?"

Frank nodded seriously. "Yes. We insulted your pride and your manhood, and now you have arrived to get your revenge. Have at it." He ducked just in time to avoid a green spell sent by the Dark Lord immediately after his cheeky response, and then, the battle began. Frank and Alice teamed up against Voldemort again, while Augusta duelled Rabastan.

It was soon becoming clear the Death Eater had underestimated the old lady, as he found himself in a great deal of trouble. Over the sounds of battle, Frank, Alice and Voldemort heard Augusta shout insults at Rabastan as they duelled, insulting his spellwork and fighting ability. "You missed – again! Really, who taught you how to aim? ...Oh, thought to hit me with an Unforgivable, did you? Well, think again! And use some more imagination, for Merlin's sake! 'Crucio' got old during the Middle Ages!"

As her insults continued, Rabastan got more and more embarrassed, and slowly began to lose his concentration. The Dark Lord, on the other hand, only became angrier. "It is becoming clear to me from where you got your brashness, Longbottom," he hissed at Frank. "She has just signed her death warrant, just as you signed yours that day at the Ministry."

Frank's eyes flashed dangerously. "You can attack me all you want," he snapped while sending a silent _Diffindo_ in the Dark Lord's direction, a move mimicked by his wife, "but don't you _ever_ threaten my mother!"

His attack grew in fury, his spells coming fast and without pause, and the Dark Lord's eyes widened as he had to use a considerate amount of ability to keep them from hitting him, something made especially difficult due to Alice's spells thrown from another direction. Still, it was nothing he couldn't handle. And two minutes afterwards, Rodolphus, Crabbe and Goyle arrived. Though the three Death Eaters looked slightly disoriented, they made the Longbottoms' defeat inevitable, considering how outnumbered – and overpowered – they were.

Alice and Frank found themselves on the defensive again, when Crabbe and Goyle backed up Voldemort, even if their spells were sluggish and not very powerful, and Augusta was clearly struggling when Rodolphus helped his brother. Less than a minute later, she was disarmed.

Alice had been stunned, and Frank, his face bleeding badly from a curse, had just been hit with a cutting hex that hit his wrist, nearly severed his hand, and caused him to drop his wand, when Dumbledore arrived, along with Moody, Buffy, Sirius and Mandy.

As Voldemort spotted Dumbledore, it became clear the Dark Lord lost the will to continue his attack. After throwing the Longbottoms one last glare, he and his Death Eaters retreated, Crabbe with a crushed kneecap, all thanks to a well-placed kick by Buffy.

"About time," Frank said, slightly shaky, due to his blood loss. "I doubt we could have lasted longer than a couple more seconds against them." Buffy took his hand gently, repairing the worst of the damage done to his wrist, so he wouldn't bleed out.

"You did great in holding them off for so long," Moody said, clapping him on the back after reviving Alice. "Something for the papers, I'm sure."

Sirius, now completely recovered from the damage he received at the Ministry, smirked. "I can just see the headlines:_ 'The Longbottoms defy You-Know-Who yet again!'_"

Alice and Frank groaned in unison.

As it turned out, Sirius was proven right, when, the next morning, the headlines of the _Daily Prophet_ said exactly that.

* * *

**15 July**

Lily let her tears fall freely as the funeral for her parents concluded, James having an arm around her shoulder. As the guests stood to leave – most of them muggles – Lily too stood, walking over to her sister, who sat stiffly in her chair, not moving a muscle.

"Petunia." Lily moved to embrace her, but Petunia slapped her hand away.

"Don't touch me!" She hissed, and Lily flinched. "I know it was people from _your _world who did this. Don't even try to deny it! And if your m-magic is supposed to be so amazing, and you're such a good little witch, why didn't you save them? You could have saved them, and you didn't! This is your fault!"

"How dare you!" James hissed, earning himself the attention from the guests who was watching the scene taking place with blatant curiosity. "Your parents just died – you should be united in your grief, not throw blame around! You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Oh, shut up," Petunia snapped. "I blame you too, you know! You corrupted my sister!"

James' jaw dropped. "I what now?" His hazel eyes narrowed.

"Stop!" Lily exclaimed, holding her hands up between them. "Please! Tuney, this is our parents' funeral – for once, let's not fight!"

"I am not fighting," Petunia huffed, crossing her arms. "I am just making a very true statement. Ever since you met _him,"_ she jerked her head in James' direction, "you have become even more of a freak."

"Pet," Vernon's eyes darted around nervously, glancing at the whispering crowd. "People are watching..."

"I don't care!" Petunia shouted. "For once, I don't give a damn. I have been waiting a long time to speak my mind, and nothing is going to stop me." She glared at Lily with pursed lips. "You disgust me," she said and Lily looked at her in complete shock.

"That's enough!" James snapped. "Take that back, right now! Lily is your _sister,_ for Merl – God's sake!"

"Not anymore," Petunia told him coldly, turning on her heel to leave. "Let's go, Vernon. I cannot stand to be in their _abnormal_ presence any longer."

"Tuney..." Lily tried. "Please..."

Petunia ignored her. "No, Lily," she said bitterly. "I have had enough. Enough of you, and enough of your husband. I despise you both, and if I never hear or see from you again, it is too soon."

She began to walk away, Vernon following like a dog on a leash, and James could only stare after them in astonishment. Seeing the entertainment was over, the guests began to leave as well. "Lily, are you just going to let them leave?" He asked.

"Yes," Lily said tiredly. "Let it go, James." She blinked away her tears. "Let's just go home, please. I'm really exhausted."

"But – "

"No. Tuney had a point."

"What?" James gawked at her. "Lils – "

"You know she did, James," Lily whispered. "Oh, not the freak part, but she was right to hold me responsible for what happened to our parents. It _is _my fault. We should have known Voldemort would retaliate – we could have protected them; put up wards, given them portkeys... There are so many things we could have done differently."

"You can't blame yourself," James said quietly, placing a kiss in her red hair.

"But I do," Lily said. "And I always will."

* * *

**17 July**

"Remus, I am pleased to see you have returned unharmed from your mission in Romania," Dumbledore said jovially as the opening lines to the Order meeting, today held at Godric's Hollow. Remus nodded, also glad to be back, and so was Buffy, who hadn't liked him leaving in the first place and had put up quite a lot of protest before he managed to convince her of its necessity. "Let's begin with your report, shall we, and then we can speak about the attack on Longbottom manor and Lily's parents."

Remus nodded, after giving Lily a sympathetic look, knowing what it was like to lose your parents to the dark – to Greyback, specifically. He was only glad Lily didn't blame him, considering he was a werewolf too. But the red-head was too clever to paint all lycans with the same brush just because a select few – and one in particular – was evil.

"Well, I'm afraid I've got mostly bad news," he said. "The majority of the werewolf packs I met with have all sided with Voldemort, even if some of the larger ones have decided to stay neutral until they're more certain where the wind will sway. However," he continued, "from what I heard, it seems Voldemort has also recruited heavily in other countries as well, not only in Romania, and several vampire clans have agreed to aid him after hearing the British ones have."

"That is grim news indeed," Dumbledore acknowledged, frowning. "Thank you for finding this out for us, Remus. Buffy, it looks like you will have plenty to slay soon."

"Bring it on," Buffy said, smirking. "If they're stupid enough to face me, they'll only have themselves to blame when I dust them."

The Headmaster chuckled. "Your confidence is very refreshing," he said. "Still, I cannot help but wish we had more Vampire Slayers at our disposal."

"Well, it's only me, I'm afraid. 'One girl in all the world' and all that jazz," Buffy said lightly.

"Indeed. Let's move on, shall we – Frank, Alice, tell me about the attack on your manor. What happened before we arrived?"

As Frank and Alice began their report, Sirius mind drifted. He couldn't help but think it was awfully convenient for Remus to be out of the country when the attack on the Evanses occurred – the werewolf attack. He didn't want to believe his friend had had anything to do with it, but at the same time, he couldn't help but doubt.

Come to think of it, his absence at the Ministry was very convenient as well: how come he had volunteered for the Azkaban mission first of all the Order members, and so quickly? He couldn't have known the real attack was going to be on the Ministry and chose to be where there was close to no action...could he?

After the meeting, he grasped James' arm. "Prongs, can I talk to you for a second?"

James glanced at Lily. "Sure. Make it quick, though. Lily's still very down, and I want to get her home as soon as possible. What is it?"

"It's Remus," Sirius said, and then proceeded to tell his best friend of his suspicions: what he'd heard him say to Avery, what Regulus had hinted at, his talk with Dumbledore, Remus' convenient absences...all of it. When he was done, James had a thoughtful frown between his eyebrows.

Finally, he spoke: "Sirius, I agree that some of it is strange, but a lot if it could just be unfortunate coincidences, and easily explained by his missions for Dumbledore. And if Dumbledore doesn't believe it's anything to worry about, I don't think you should put more thought into this." He held up his hand when he saw Sirius was about to protest. "And what your brother said and wrote...well, I hate to say it, but Regulus was a Death Eater, even if he went against what they stood for, in the end." James gave him a grave look. "We can't afford to not trust each other. If we do, we'll fall apart. Moony is one of our closest friends, and I can't believe that of him. I _won't _believe that of him."

"But – "

"No, Padfoot," James said, slightly harsher than he meant to. "I don't want to hear another word of this. Until you have actual proof, Remus has my unending trust."

* * *

**1 August**

"Gringotts has replied," Mandy spoke happily. About a week earlier, Mandy had sent a letter to the Goblins, applying for the curse-breaking training they offered, and she'd been anxiously waiting for their response. "They want me to be there on Saturday to go through a series of tests that will show whether or not I qualify for their course."

"I'm sure you will," Sirius said. "You've got a brilliant mind."

"Well, a brilliant mind or not, I doubt that's going to be enough," Mandy chewed her lip anxiously. "I mean...this is Goblins we're talking about. I doubt any examination they come up with is going to be a walk in the park."

"True, but I'm certain you'll do just fine," Sirius assured her.

"I wish I knew what it entailed...that way, I could prepare myself more...study ahead," Mandy muttered, more to herself than her boyfriend. "Perhaps I can go pick up some books on the subject at the library..."

Sirius rolled his eyes. His girlfriend could be such a...Ravenclaw. The side that had her sorted her into the house of learning didn't come out that often – a lot of the time, Sirius thought Mandy acted more Gryffindor than anything – but sometimes, it shone through, like now. "You have nothing to worry about!" He exclaimed. "You'll take the Goblins by storm."

"Let's hope you're right," Mandy mumbled.

Sirius snorted. "Of course I am! I'm Sirius Black, after all!"

* * *

**13 August**

"Surprise!"

Peter stared at his friends, not at all happy at their arrival.

"We know you wanted to celebrate your birthday with your mother this year," Remus said, slightly apologetic. "But you're our friend and we wanted to step by and congratulate you anyway."

Peter forced up a smile. This was not what he'd been planning in ways of birthday celebrations: his fellow Death Eaters had planned a very different outing for him that afternoon, and considering how his Lord hadn't been very pleased with him lately, he doubted the excuse that he'd been unable to slip away for it would suffice. "Well, come in. Mother is in the kitchen, baking a cake."

"Hi, Mrs. Pettigrew," the marauders greeted as they stepped inside.

Mrs. Pettigrew wiped her floor-covered hands on her apron. "Oh, hello! How lovely that your friends decided to stop by, Peter dearest," she said.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Peter muttered, while inwardly hoping they weren't going to stay long. He didn't particularly relish being on the wrong end of another Cruciatus curse anytime soon.

Unluckily enough for Peter, the hours ticked by, without his friends looking about to leave anytime soon. Peter glanced anxiously at his wristwatch. It was already well past the time he was supposed to have met with his Master, and his mark was burning very unpleasantly.

"Wormtail, do you have ants in your pants, or something?" James asked with a laugh. "You're really jittery, and you keep looking at your watch."

"I-I actually have somewhere to be," Peter said, while wracking his brain for an excuse, knowing he couldn't possibly delay here any longer. "I-I'm meeting someone."

His friends threw him curious glances. "Who?" Sirius asked.

"I-it's...it's actually a girl," Peter lied, finally figuring out what to say. "A woman. That I'm dating. Sort of."

"Oh." For a moment or two his friends looked lost for words. "Well, we're happy for you," James finally said. "That you've met someone new..."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Buffy asked gently.

"I-I wasn't sure how," Peter admitted. "I mean...considering Samantha."

"Peter, we could never blame you for moving on," Lily told him kindly. "It's been months since she died, and you can't keep blaming yourself for what happened to her."

"I know," Peter smiled weakly.

"Oh, cheer up!" Sirius exclaimed. "So, tell us – what's her name? When can we meet her? Is she a looker?"

"Well, I think she is," Peter said. "And her name i-is Claire," he continued. "B-but we haven't been seeing each other long, and she's a muggle. I haven't told her I'm a wizard yet." The lies came easier now. "So meeting her may have to wait."

"Well, we can understand that," Lily said, nodding. "These guys can be quite overwhelming, especially James and Sirius," she nudged her husband teasingly.

"Oi!" The marauder protested. "We're not! Are we, Pads?"

Sirius shook his head wildly in denial, but Remus snorted. "Yes, you are!"

James and Sirius pouted.

"Well, I should go," Peter said, standing up. "I'm late as it is."

"Hurry up, then," Mandy prompted. "Being late for a date is never a good thing."

Relieved, Peter left the house, quickly apparating away, his mark stinging unpleasantly.

* * *

**14 August**

"I was accepted!" Mandy squealed. "The Goblins has accepted me into curse-breaker training!" It was Tuesday, a little over a week since Mandy went through testing at Gringotts, which had involved solving several difficult problems of various type under pressure and time-limits. To top it all off, she had also had to pass through a complex labyrinth in which she had to disable several wards and other tricky obstacles.

"Congratulations," Sirius said. "I'm so happy for you."

Mandy's exuberant smile faltered a bit. "I know you are," she said. "But..."

"But what?" Sirius asked, confused.

"Remember how I told you it might mean moving abroad?" Mandy bit her lip. "Well, that was just confirmed. The Goblins wrote that I've been offered a spot at their most prestigious training camp in Egypt, though I can choose to go through training here in Britain instead, but the practical portion of it is abysmal in comparison."

"I remember," Sirius said. "You should go," he added. "It's a great opportunity."

"But the Order..."

"Never mind the Order," Sirius snapped. "This is your future we're talking about, Mandy – your career." To be honest, while Sirius didn't want Mandy to leave – he wanted her here, with him – he wanted her safe, more than anything, and the British Wizarding World were as far from it you could get at the moment. The only way to guarantee her safety from the war was if she moved out of the country, like the Lowells had.

Mandy's eyes narrowed. "The Order is important to, and if You-Know-Who wins, I won't have a future."

"In Britain," Sirius said, and immediately regretted it, as he saw the calculating gleam appear in the former Ravenclaw's eyes.

"You're trying to make me leave so I won't be involved in the war!" She said triumphantly, realising his intentions.

"Is that so wrong of me?" Sirius asked desperately. "Wanting you safe?"

"It's selfish," Mandy said.

"So what?" Sirius asked. "Aren't I allowed to? If it were up to me, you wouldn't have joined the Order in the first place!"

"Well, it's not up to you! And deciding whether I leave or not isn't either," Mandy snapped. "What if I want to stay, huh?"

"Then you stay," Sirius said tiredly. "I know this is your decision to make, and I respect that. But I love you. If anything happened to you, I don't know what I would do."

Mandy's expression softened. "Nothing is going to happen to me, Sirius."

"You can't know that!" Sirius snapped. "People are killed practically every day."

"I know! But why are you so prepared for the worst to happen to me if I stay? Have a little faith in me, please," Mandy begged. "I can take care of myself."

"It's not that I don't believe in you; I do," Sirius protested. "But why take the risk?"

"You do," Mandy reminded him. "But you don't see me forcing you to flee the country."

"We're not talking about me!"

"Of course we are!" Mandy chuckled ruefully. "This is all about you, Sirius. Your fear. Not mine."

"It sounds like you have already made your decision," Sirius said, slightly bitterly.

Mandy looked at him. "Yeah... Maybe I have," she said quietly. "I'm staying, Sirius. I want to help in the war. Leaving wouldn't seem right. You can protest all you want, but I won't change my mind. The education in Britain is good enough to start. Maybe, when the war is over, I can go to Egypt and get the advanced aspects of the training I can't get here. But until You-Know-Who is defeated, I'm staying."

* * *

**French translations**

Mon dieu – My God.  
Merde – Shit.  
Merci – Thank you.

* * *

_**Published: **__26/01 -11_

* * *

**Trivia**

- That James refuses to believe Remus is the traitor is based on the premise that James _"__would have regarded it as the height of dishonour to mistrust his friends" _as mentioned in HP and the Deathly Hallows.


	25. Power

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. The Sorting Hat song was made up by me. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**16 August**

"Can I just say, again, how happy that I am that you're back?" Buffy said, wrapping an arm around her boyfriend.

"I'm glad to be back," Remus replied.

"Does Dumbledore have any more missions for you?"

"Well, he mentioned before my mission to Romania that he wanted to speak more regarding how to go about my other assignment on my return," Remus mused. "But he hasn't said anything yet."

"Let's hope he's forgotten, shall we?" Buffy only half joked. Remus had never told her what that particular mission was about, which made her worry even more than his assignments to the werewolves – at least then, she knew what was going on. She was exceedingly grateful it seemed to have ended: A logical conclusion to make, if the Headmaster hadn't given him any further orders. Of course, she understood they all had to do their part, but Remus always seemed to draw the short straw. And he looked far more relaxed lately, rather than filled with tension and under stress.

Remus chuckled slightly, inwardly agreeing with Buffy: Though he was happy to have something to occupy his time with, that particular mission with the Death Eaters wasn't something he'd particularly enjoyed. He really wasn't cut out for the double agent role. "I doubt it, but I'm grateful for the reprieve, of course," he said ruefully. "What about you? Any more vampire attacks while I was gone?"

"No," Buffy answered. "I said I'd tell you if there were, didn't I? But there have been an increase in vampire activity in the cities. For once, my patrols aren't a complete waste of time."

"Just be careful," Remus said.

"Always," Buffy said, not entirely lying. While she could be somewhat…reckless, at times, she wasn't stupid about it. She was well aware of her own capabilities and limitations.

"You should let me accompany you sometimes," Remus told her. "I'm not entirely useless in a pinch, you know, and I want to share that part of your life with you."

Buffy tilted her head in consideration. "I'll think about it," she said.

* * *

James walked into his and Lily's bedroom in Potter manor after a long day at the Academy – the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was still rather chaotic, even now, over a month since the Ministry attack. He froze in the doorway when he saw Lily was in bed, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks streaked with tear-tracks. "Lils?"

"James!" Lily sat up hastily, wiping her eyes. "You're home."

"And so are you," James noted cautiously. "When did you get here?"

Lily looked away. "I left right after lunch."

"Oh?" James sat down at the end of the bed. "Were you not feeling well? Or do you not like the work you do in the you-know-where anymore?"

"My job is not my problem," Lily said. "I love it. It's challenging, but that's what so brilliant about it. I just…wasn't able to concentrate today, that's all."

"How come?" James asked.

"Petunia," Lily said quietly after a long silence. James eyes grew dark. "And don't look like that, James. I know you don't like her, but she is my sister."

"I know. But she treated you awfully at the funeral and I'm not about to forgive that without good reason," James said. "But the funeral was a month ago. You can't still be upset about what she said then, at least not enough to make it affect your work."

"I've been writing her," Lily admitted. "Every other day since. But my letters have all returned unopened. But today…I got an answer."

"And it wasn't what you wanted to hear?" James squeezed her shoulder gently.

Lily shook her head. "No. I've been trying to reconnect with her, you know? I mean, she can't keep blaming me for our parents' deaths forever. We are sisters, after all, and like you said, we should be united in our grief. Or at least, that's what I thought. I guess I underestimated her stubbornness." She sniffed. "What she wrote...it was mean, James. Scathing. Petunia can be…rather cold and scornful, but she's never been malicious or nasty. Until now. I just don't know what to do!" Lily lowered her head to James' shoulder, grateful accepting his hug.

"There's not much you can do, I suppose," James mumbled. "I know it's not what you want to hear, but until Petunia is willing to listen, it won't matter what you say. You've done what you can. It's up to her now. Maybe you can try again in a few months, once she's had time to think things over. But I think you both need space right now, Lils."

"When did you get so wise?" Lily muttered.

"Wise? Me?" James chortled. "I'm not. But I suppose some of your common sense were bound to infect me sooner or later."

* * *

**23 August**

Buffy wiped her forehead exhaustedly, closing the door to her now sleeping patient's room silently. It was night at St. Mungo's, and Buffy was covering an extra night-shift: A sudden Death Eater attack had occurred on a small wizarding village near Nottingham some forty-eight hours previous, forcing the already exhausted hospital staff to work overtime.

Buffy didn't mind the work: She and Remus needed the money, and she enjoyed caring for the ill and injured. As the Slayer, she had always been – and always would be – a protector of the weak. As a Healer, that still applied, but in a different manner, and she liked the large contrast between the two. Both occupations allowed her to help people: One by kicking some serious butt, and the other by patching wounds (inflicted by those other than herself) back together.

Still, there was some irony in the profession she had chosen, she knew that, and not only because of her status as the Slayer, but also because of the large hate she had held for hospitals in general up until just a few years ago: She had only gotten over it by killing the demon Der Kindestod while a patient at the Sunnydale hospital, and even after that, some dislike (and dread) had lingered. It was only now, after facing a medical facility on a daily basis by choosing the career she had that she could honestly say she was over her issues regarding medicinal care.

Buffy made her way towards the small kitchen meant for staff, in search for coffee, she mused slightly over the fact that she had already been a Healer in training for a year now. She shook her head in slight disbelief. Where had all the time gone? She had been in the Wizarding World for over two years, and it was soon time for her to choose a field to specialise in: Buffy was pretty certain she would chose creature-induced injuries, for obvious reasons. Considering her calling as the Slayer and Remus' lycanthropic affliction, it was the most logical and practical choice, but she still couldn't believe she had gotten so far as to need to choose it in the first place.

While in Sunnydale, Buffy had found the career fair she had suffered through a joke, for the most part: Slaying had been her life (to her outmost despair and annoyance), a 'sacred duty' that took up all of her time. She'd been quite certain it would be her death before she ever reached a point where she would need to pick a 'real' career.

But now, things were so very different, and while Buffy liked the change, she couldn't help but wonder sometimes what her life would be like if she hadn't fallen into the portal that took her here. It wasn't that she missed Sunnydale, but she supposed there would always be a small part that would wonder 'what if.'

Buffy frowned as the lights above – powered by magic, of course – suddenly began to flicker, and then go out. After awhile, the light returned, dimmer and weaker, casting foreboding shadows around her, and the hairs on her neck rose.

"I have a bad feeling about this," she muttered to herself, turning back to where she had come from, and not a moment too soon: alarms blared, as windows crashed and the unprepared hospital staff was overwhelmed by the creatures jumping inside. Kneeling behind the reception desk, Buffy's eyes narrowed as she took in the sight.

"Vampires," she whispered, and couldn't help but feel some elation at the sheer number of them. Finally, a physical challenge! She could have done without the twenty Death Eaters, not to mention Voldemort, entering behind them, though. "Crap."

"No need to rush," the Dark Lord intoned, sounding bored. "Plenty of bodies to go around." Not listening, the vampires stormed through the hospital and into the patients' rooms, dragging them out and sinking sharp fangs into their throats as they screamed. The Death Eaters, on the other hand, wasted no time in attacking the terrified night-staff.

Pulling out her wand, Buffy quickly sent off a patronus with a message to Dumbledore, and prayed it would reach the Headmaster quickly. Then, the Slayer broke off a leg from the chair behind the desk, smiling grimly at the sharp wooden stake she now held. Jumping up from behind her hiding spot, Buffy grabbed the closest vampire she could find and felled him, slamming the stake home, and he exploded into dust.

All actions came to a stop as everyone's attention was grabbed by the cloud of ash. Standing up, stake gripped tightly, Buffy smiled innocently. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you in the middle of something?"

"Get her!" A Death Eater hissed, and the vampires ran towards the blonde, ignoring the staff in favour of what they saw as the greater threat: she had killed one of their own, and had to die. The Dark Lord only leaned back against a wall, watching the action with critical eyes.

Buffy found she had her hands full as the vampires crowded around her, and everything became a blur as she fought, adrenaline pumping through her veins. "Who are you?" One vampire hissed angrily, trying to get the upper hand, and failing, despite the fact that Buffy was fighting at least five other vampires at the same time.

"I'm Buffy," Buffy said, kicking a vampire in the face. "And you are...history," she finished, staking the vampire who had asked through the heart. She smiled in satisfaction. Some of her puns never got old.

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed as he heard her answer. So...this was the girl. Buffy Summers. He could see why Snape was impressed.

Buffy's head snapped back as a vampire hit her in the face, making her stumble back a few steps. Unfortunately, the hit had made her lose focus, for just a second, but it was enough time for the mass of vampires to overwhelm her. Suddenly, she was falling to her knees, the crowd of living dead pounding at her small body wherever they could reach.

"Buffy!" A familiar voice said, and then, Buffy found she could breathe again, as the majority of the vampires were blasted away from her. Getting to her feet, Buffy grinned at Mandy, who grinned back, before the brunette turned her attention to the Death Eaters.

"Is this a private party, or is anyone invited?" Sirius asked, fighting side by side with his girlfriend.

"I can't believe you're making jokes at a time like this," Remus yelled at him, but his eyes were shining with badly held back mirth.

"Your girlfriend is!" Sirius yelled back, enveloping a Death Eater with ropes with a flick of his wand.

"Yeah, but she's brilliant," Remus smiled sweetly and Mandy snorted.

Seeing things were rapidly turning downhill, Voldemort decided it was time to get himself involved. "I really need better followers," he muttered to himself as yet another Death Eater was felled. _"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Mandy's eyes widened, and only Sirius lightning-quick reflexes saved her life as he threw himself over her, and they both fell to the floor, on top of one another. "Thanks," the Ravenclaw panted, pecking him on the lips quickly.

"You're welcome," Sirius said, swiftly getting back to his feet and rejoining the fighting, trying not to think about how close Mandy had gotten – how close they _both_ had gotten – to death.

Voldemort's eyes didn't miss the small exchange, and his mind immediately swirled with a large amount of possibilities. Love. Such a useless thing. And yet so perfect to exploit, if used in the right way. Spotting a flash of red in the corner of his eyes, the Dark Lord spun, growling slightly as he saw two familiar faces among those fighting his Death Eaters. _"You..." _He hissed, remembering the humiliated retreat he'd been forced to make after fighting Potter and his wife. Making his way through the fighting crowd, he raised his wand, sending off a curse in James' direction.

Lily spun around in fear and shock as her husband suddenly was blasted in the back, and he fell to the floor, groggily. "James!"

"What?" James fought to stay awake. He didn't know what sort of curse had hit him, but it was making him drowsy, and his back itched terribly.

"Get up!" Lily demanded. "Voldemort!"

James shook his head in an attempt to clear it and slowly rose to his feet, his legs wobbling slightly as he stood up and faced the Dark Lord. "Fancy meeting you here," he said sarcastically.

"Potter." Red eyes blazed. "Have you thought over my offer?"

"About joining you?" James asked incredulously. "Seriously, get it into your head! We're not interested!"

"You dare to defy my wishes again?" Voldemort asked silkily. "I have been most generous so far."

"Yeah, really generous, killing my parents," Lily spat.

"Yes. I let _you_ live, did I not?" Voldemort stated. "Some gratitude is in order."

"Screw you," James snarled, and then, duel began. This time, however, it was the Potters' turn to struggle: it barely looked as though the Dark Lord was trying – he was playing with them. Furious, James tried to increase the speed of his spell-casting, but all of them, Lily's included, were blocked effortlessly, and both had to use all of their ability to hold the Dark Lord's offensive spells at bay.

"I have given you a reprieve," Voldemort said. "I haven't killed either of you yet, but even my patience has a limit. I suggest you choose wisely, should you wish to remain on this Earth."

"I'm shaking in my boots," Lily rolled her eyes, but truth was, she was terrified. She knew neither she nor James could keep this up much longer.

"As you should," the Dark Lord smirked.

Suddenly, more people appeared to help the surviving hospital staff and the few Order members who had been the quickest to respond to the message sent by Dumbledore after the Headmaster got Buffy's patronus: this force included Ministry Aurors and Dumbledore himself.

Blue eyes, void of any twinkle, met blazing red, as the Headmaster and his former student stared at each other from across the room. Voldemort was the first to look away and he turned his full attention back to the Potters, a smirk on his pale, bloodless lips. "We will meet again, I'm sure," he bowed mockingly, before he grabbed something in his pocket, and disappeared, taking the majority of his Death Eaters with him.

"Are you alright?" Remus ran up to Buffy, and the Slayer grinned widely, ignoring her bloodied lip and the dust and sweat covering her skin, still high on adrenaline.

"Just peachy."

* * *

**24 August**

Peter stood, trembling, in the doorway to the ritual chamber, watching anxiously as the Dark Lord left the ritual circle he'd been standing on, a flash of dark blue surrounding him as he did so. Breathing rather heavily, he sank down on a stiff-looking chair standing in a corner of the room.

"You summoned me, my Lord?" Peter asked, trying not to look at the dead muggle child still lying in the middle of the ritual circle, the girl's blood pooling around her body.

"Yes," Voldemort leaned his head backwards, inhaling the smell of virgin blood. He felt more powerful already, new magic itching beneath his skin thanks to the power-strengthening ritual he had just performed. "I am most disappointed in you, Peter."

Peter gulped. What had he done now?

"Is there something you have forgotten to tell me?"

Peter wracked his mind to try and come up with something that could have possibly displeased the Dark Lord, but found nothing. "N-not that I can remember, my Lord," he said.

"No?" His master's voice was sharp as it echoed through the chamber. "Well, then you have nothing to fear, do you? Come closer," he commanded, and with legs of jelly, Peter walked forward, until he was kneeling on the floor in front of the Dark Lord's chair.

"Do you remember now?" He asked, and flinching at the coldness in his tone, Peter shook his head.

"N-no, my Lord." Peter licked his lips nervously. "I-if I have done something to displease you, master, I am sorry."

"Oh, but you haven't done anything, and therein lies the problem," the Dark Lord said silkily. "Let me see if I can jog your memory. Buffy. Summers."

Confused, Peter raised his head. "I-I don't understand, my Lord. What about her?"

Enraged, the Dark Lord raised a hand and blasted Peter across the room, until he hit the wall on the opposite side with a loud moan. _"What about her,_ you ask!" He sneered. "You did not tell me about her, that's what!"

"I-I...I'm sorry...I didn't know there was anything to tell," Peter whimpered dizzily.

"Useless fool!" Voldemort shouted. "Not anything to tell? Her _powers, _you stupid rat!"

Peter was completely bewildered. "What powers? She's not very good at magic..."

"I know that!" Voldemort snapped. "I'm not talking about her magic, I'm talking about the fact that she can take on a crowd of vampires without it and _live!"_

Peter's mouth formed an 'o' shape as he finally realised what the Dark Lord was talking about. "Oh. That." He shrugged. "She's a Slayer, or something like that. But I don't see why that's so important. She's not a very good witch. You have nothing to fear."

"Nothing to – " Voldemort saw red. _"Nothing to fear?"_

Peter winced. "I promise to do better, my Lord! I'm sorry!" He gasped. "If I had known it was important – "

"EVERYTHING you find out from the Order and your friends are important, you imbecile!" The Dark Lord roared. "Get out of my sight, Pettigrew, before I blast you to pieces!" Peter needed no more encouragement, and quickly scrambled out of the room, leaving a seething Dark Lord behind.

"Idiot," he hissed to himself, breathing heavily to calm himself down. "A Slayer..." he then muttered. He knew of the myth, of course. It had never interested him much, considering it was just that – a myth, and he hadn't put much thought into the supposed powers a Slayer was supposed to have either, feeling it was just an exaggeration, a children's take.

But now...now, when the myth had been proven real...now, when he had seen the power she wielded with his own two eyes...things were a lot different. He had never cared much about power from something other than magic. But the power Buffy Summers held...he wanted it. Oh, how he wanted it. "Buffy Summers..." Thin, bloodless lips smiled in the dark.

* * *

**1 September**

Eliza chewed her nails nervously as she looked out over the four empty tables in the Great Hall. Soon, it would be filled with chattering students – students she was supposed to teach come Monday. She gulped.

"Nervous?" Dumbledore asked her kindly, a twinkle in his eye.

Eliza nodded wordlessly. "Terrified," she admitted after a few seconds of silence. "I mean...I am not much older than the students. What if they don't respect me?"

The Headmaster looked at her over his half-moon formed glasses. "Respect is not something given to you, no matter how old you are. It is earned."

"What if I can't earn it?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Then you are no worse off than some of the other Defence professors we have had through the years," he said. "But I would not worry too much, Eliza. As long as you are fair, and manage to teach them something, I daresay the students will both like and respect you."

"At least you do not have to worry about the welcoming prank almost all new professors have suffered due to a group of certain students," Flitwick piped up. "I am both relieved and sad that they have graduated."

"Welcoming prank?" Eliza asked, curious. "And what group?"

Dumbledore chuckled jovially. "They call themselves the marauders, and the welcoming prank is a tradition started their second year here. I imagine they saw it as a bit of an initiation rite for the first years to Hogwarts...to see if they could handle the pressure."

"Who are the marauders?" Eliza wondered.

"Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, and...oh, I can never remember that last fellow!" Professor Slughorn exclaimed. "Perry Pembroke?"

"Peter Pettigrew," Dumbledore corrected with a smile, and Eliza's eyes widened as she realised she had met them, since they were all members of the Order. She cocked her head thoughtfully. She may have to try and get to know them better. They seemed to be interesting people.

"Yes, Pettigrew, now I remember!" Slughorn nodded.

In that moment, the doors opened and a large crowd of chattering students entered, and Eliza's stomach did an unpleasant loop. They were so many! Far more students than she was used to seeing in Beauxbatons. Or perhaps, it only felt different because she wasn't walking among them. She had never been in a position of authority before, and she could feel many curious looks thrown in her direction. And though she was sure she imagined it, it felt as though all the whispers, and laughs were about her.

The students sat down and a few moments later, the doors opened again, and professor McGonagall entered. "The first years are here now, Albus," she said. "Is the Sorting Hat ready?"

She looked at the - in Eliza's opinion - rather ugly looking wizarding hat that had been placed on a four-legged stool in the middle of the hall. "Yes, yes," the hat spoke. "Get on with it!"

McGonagall nodded, opened the doors and slipped outside again. A few tense moments passed by in utter silence. All eyes were on the closed doors, and then, they opened yet again, and this time, McGonagall was followed by a line of nervous looking first-years.

The first years jerked in surprise as the hat began to sing:

"_No, your eyes do not deceive you;  
__A talking hat you see,  
__And let me tell you right away,  
__There's no one else like me!_

_I can read your heart and soul,  
__And penetrate your mind,  
__And by knowing your desires,  
__A place for you I'll find._

_If you value your intellect,  
__And are wise and witty too,  
__I believe that Ravenclaw,  
__Is the place for you._

_Perhaps you are a daring sort,  
__Both brave and bold indeed,  
__Then you'__ll find that Gryffindor,  
__Shal__l suit your every need._

_Or maybe you're a loyal one,  
__Steady, just and true,  
__Then I think that you will find,  
__that Hufflepuff will do._

_If ambition is your prerogative,  
__A Slytherin you'll be,  
__Cunning, sly and clever,  
__But not cleverer than me!_

_So put me on and I shall say,  
__The house where you belong,  
__So hurry up, get ready all,  
__For now I end my song."_

Loud applause filled the Great Hall, and Eliza, too, had to smile. It was a funny object, that Sorting Hat, she thought amusedly. And quite proud of itself, it seemed. Relaxing, Eliza watched in a sort of detached daze as the first years were sorted, inwardly wondering what house she would have ended up in if she had been sorted. She didn't think either of the houses fit her all that well. She was more of a cross of them all, really.

Looking at the first-years, everyone looking frightened as they put on the hat, only to gain an expression of relief, when it shouted the name of a house, Eliza felt a sense of calm settle over her. She was like them, she mused: frightened at first, when she made the decision to come to England, not knowing what to expect. And then, relieved when she arrived, finding her place in the world.

She had made her decision, and she was sticking to it. There was no more wondering, no more place for doubt or speculation.

She was here, and she was staying.

* * *

"Everything alright?" Mandy asked, leaning down over the sofa to place a soft kiss on Sirius' cheek. Looking up at his girlfriend, Sirius smiled.

"I should ask you the same question. You start your training at Gringotts in a couple of days."

Mandy nodded. "Yes. I'm quite nervous, but also really excited."

"Have you recovered sufficiently from the battle at St. Mungo's?" Sirius asked, and Mandy laughed lightly.

"You know I have. The battle was a week ago! Besides, I barely got a scratch on me."

"You almost got killed," Sirius mumbled.

Jumping over the back of the sofa, Mandy settled down beside Sirius. "Almost. The killing curse didn't hit me, and considering you threw yourself on top of me to keep that from happening, you were in more danger than I was. I still can't believe you did that, by the way: risking your life for me."

"How could I not?" Sirius asked incredulously. "You're my girlfriend. And I love you. I know I don't say it that often, but I do." He swallowed, looking deeply into her eyes. "I couldn't bear it if anything bad happened to you."

"So you keep telling me," Mandy said. "But you can't go on like this – fearing for my life all the time. That's no way to live. And it's not the Sirius I know. The Sirius I know is energetic and light-hearted and optimistic."

"Yes, well, things change. War changes people," he smiled humourlessly, thinking of Remus. Before the war, Sirius had been certain Remus didn't have a bad bone in his body, werewolf or not. But now, he couldn't be sure anymore, not after all he'd seen and heard. Not after the evidence stacking up against his friend.

"No, it doesn't," Mandy countered to his surprise. "Not really. Deep inside, we're still the same. The only thing war does, when it comes to our personalities, is bring out the potential of what we were capable of all along, under the right – or wrong – circumstances."

Sirius frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean. Are you saying everyone is born evil?" As much as he currently mistrusted Remus, he didn't believe that!

"No!" Mandy shook her head. "Of course not. I'm just saying that everyone, deep down, is capable of what we consider sin. But not everyone acts on it. What makes us different is that we don't. For various reasons, because of a variety of circumstances, we chose to fight against You-Know-Who. And the Death Eaters chose to fight with him. And they probably think they're doing the right thing, just like we do."

Sirius sighed. He wished he could go back to blissful ignorance, regarding his view on Remus, regarding everything, really. "I guess. How did we even get into this subject?"

Mandy chuckled. "You were talking about how war changes you, and I disagreed."

"Right," Sirius muttered. Mandy's little speech about change supported his theory about Remus' somewhat: circumstances had made him betray them. But at the same time, why would they have caused that? Remus had no reason to join Voldemort. He was intelligent - surely he knew the promises Voldemort made about werewolves were false? And for Remus, friendship and family were what mattered the most to him. Why would he betray that? Things didn't add up, and Sirius was becoming more and more confused, not to mention frustrated.

During the attack on St. Mungo's, Remus had been present, fighting on their side, to the best of his ability. Besides, Sirius knew Remus loved Buffy and would never do anything to put her in danger, no matter what side he was truly on. If he'd truly been disloyal to the Order, wouldn't he have made sure Buffy wasn't at work when the attack occurred?

It was becoming more likely that his absence at the Ministry, for example, had been just a fluke, like James had suggested. And speaking of James, when talking to him about Remus, he hadn't doubted in the slightest. He'd acted like a real friend should act.

And Sirius hadn't.

Before talking with Mandy, Sirius would have said James' blind trust was bordering on foolishness, but now, he couldn't help but feel that perhaps, he was the fool. If there had been anyone who had betrayed his and Remus' friendship, it was him, for thinking the worst about someone he'd been friends with for years. And it made Sirius wonder, what else was he capable of, deep down?

"Hey, are you alright?" Mandy asked worriedly. "You're looking rather ill, all of sudden."

"Just thinking."

"You seem to be having deep thoughts rather often lately," Mandy noted.

Sirius smiled weakly. "I suppose. Certain circumstances make these particular thoughts necessary."

"Well, what are you thinking about?" Mandy asked.

"That I don't know myself as well as I thought I did," Sirius admitted. "And probably not other people either, not even my friends. Not even you."

"Those are dangerous thoughts to have," Mandy said.

"Maybe. But how can I trust people, Mandy?" Sirius exclaimed. "How can I trust_ myself?"_

"It's doesn't matter how, or why," Mandy shrugged. "It's trust. There's nothing logical about it. It's a feeling. Either you possess it, or you don't. With times being what they are, I understand trust is difficult to have. But it's also more important than ever. If we begin to doubt each other, or second-guess ourselves, we will fall apart."

* * *

_**Published: **__09/02 -11_

* * *

**Trivia**

- From BTVS 2x18: _Killed by Death_, we learn Buffy has a fear of hospitals from when her cousin, Celia, died in one when she was little. This fear is something she seemingly gets over after she kills a demon, Der Kindestod, who has been preying on the ill children in the hospital, while she's a patient there.  
- The career fair in Sunnydale took place during the two-parter 2x9 and 2x10: What's My Line, during which Buffy was suggested a career in either law enforcement professionals, law enforcement or environmental design. Buffy also bemoaned the fact that she could only ever be the Slayer to Giles.  
- Slughorn can't recall Peter's name, because, to him, he's not worth remembering. As we learn from the conversation between McGonagall, Madam Rosmerta and Fudge in _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,_ they all considered Peter to be a foolish tag-along, quite worthless in comparison to his friends. From other conversations – for example, the one in the Shrieking Shack – we learn that Remus and Sirius too thought of him as rather talentless. All in all, people think of Peter as weak, stupid and overall _forgettable: _a mistake that proves to be fatal in canon: Peter is a lot smarter, and capable of a lot more, than he's given him credit for, which allows him to get away with murder.


	26. Spy

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**9 September**

Remus apparated to about a metre outside Hogwarts wards, and then slowly walked towards the castle. He had been summoned to the Headmaster's office, and though Remus didn't know exactly what Dumbledore wanted, he could venture a guess: they hadn't yet talked about his mission regarding the Death Eaters, and he supposed it was about time. It didn't mean he was looking forward to it, though.

"Remus!" A voice suddenly called out, and Remus spun around, seeing a panting Eliza come running towards him from the direction of Hogsmeade. "Remus, hi!

"Eliza," Remus greeted his fellow Order member. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Eliza threw him a smile. "I've just been in Hogsmeade. It's very...picturesque, non?"

Remus chuckled. "Yes, I suppose it is. How do you like the school?"

"It's very different in architecture compared to Beaxbatons, which is much grander and more modern in style, but the atmosphere there isn't as comfortable," Eliza answered. "I really like Hogwarts, and the people are much more approachable. Warmer. Though, I have to admit I find myself getting lost quite a bit," she shook her head ruefully. "The moving staircases, the many corridors and passageways, not to mention the portraits which aren't really all that helpful when you try to ask them for directions... It's quite confusing."

Remus laughed. "It will get easier, I promise. And as for the portraits, well, not all of them venture out of their frames much, and some of them are very old. It's no wonder most of them can't give proper directions. You're better off asking a student."

"Oh, I couldn't do that!" Eliza exclaimed. "How embarrassing! I'm supposed to be their professor – how will they ever learn to respect me if I ask for their help?"

"Don't confuse pride with respect, Eliza. Asking students for help shouldn't be embarrassing," Remus said, his lips twitching. "In fact, it may make you seem more likeable and friendly in their eyes if you do."

Eliza frowned. "Your customs here are very different. According to the way I was raised, asking for help is seen as a sign of weakness." She sighed. "I suppose I have a lot of things to get used to."

"Do you ever regret coming here?" Remus asked.

Eliza shook her head. "No. Well, sometimes. But that's only because I miss my friends, and because I don't like being estranged to my father. We didn't...part on the best of terms. In fact, I didn't even tell him I was leaving, and now, he has disowned me for refusing to come back. But if I were to make the same choice, even knowing that, I would still have come here. I want to help in this war and it feels great, to be a part of the Order and be able to do that."

Remus, whose eyes had widened when he heard Eliza had been disowned, nodded. The two had reached the castle now, and had just stepped into the entrance hall. "Well, this is where we part ways. I'm heading to the Headmaster's office. You?"

"My chambers," Eliza said. "I still have to work out the details in my lesson plans for the older years."

"Good luck," Remus said. "I'll be seeing you during the next Order meeting, I suppose?"

Eliza nodded. "Yes. Bye for now, then, Remus. It was nice talking to you."

"Likewise," Remus said. Eliza seemed like a nice person, and she was the marauders' age. He would have to talk to his friends about trying to get to know her better – she seemed rather lonely.

* * *

"Ah, Remus, my boy, please, sit," Dumbledore said as Remus stepped into his office after knocking. "I imagine you know why I asked you to come?"

"If it's about my meetings with the Death Eaters, then yes," Remus answered. "I'm not sure what you want to know, though. I told you before I left for Romania that I thought my luck with those has reached its limits, unless I actively join the Death Eaters"

"Yes...how do you feel about that?"

Remus frowned. "About what?"

"Joining the Death Eaters," Dumbledore plopped a lemon-drop into his mouth.

Remus' jaw dropped. "Y-you want me to join them?" He asked incredulously.

"I realise that is a lot to ask," Dumbledore said calmly. "However, I am very proud of you and what you have accomplished so far. Your dedication to our cause is admirable, and this is a task I cannot trust with anyone else. You have already managed to make the Death Eaters trust you somewhat."

Remus stared. He wanted to help, he truly did, but something held him back from accepting. It only took him a few seconds to realise what that was. "I can't," Remus answered, surprised at how calm he sounded. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Voldemort is winning, Remus," the Headmaster said somewhat sternly. "We have managed to push them back in their attacks so far but we are losing more and more people, while he is gaining more and more support. Vampires. _Werewolves._ The fact is we need someone on the inside, and right now, you are in the best position to be that person. I need your help," he continued earnestly. "Can I count on you, Remus?"

"Of course you can, but joining the Death Eaters…" Remus trailed off, swallowing as guilt set in at Dumbledore's words. "I –"

"I realise spying is dangerous," Dumbledore said gravely. "But you have managed so far, haven't you?"

"Well, yes, but not without suspicion. And actually joining them is completely different!"

"It would be for the light," Dumbledore countered. "And I have thought long and hard on this. You should be honoured that I'm choosing you to do this. A spy to report Voldemort's moves could be just what we need to win this war."

"I realise that," Remus said, taking a deep breath. "And I _am _honoured. Really. I'd do anything for this cause. But not that. I couldn't live like that," Remus looked at Dumbledore, a frown on his face. "I'm not cut out for it."

"On the contrary: every sign points to you being quite good at it. You have every chance to succeed. The Death Eaters are interested. You have been fooling them for quite some time already. The fact that you're a werewolf gives your mind natural impenetrable protection against any sort of mind intrusion such as Legilimency. It also gives you a reason as to why you're attracted to the dark."

"I didn't fool Greyback," Remus reminded him.

"If you take the mark," Dumbledore said, "if Voldemort believes you, Greyback will follow suit. I'm sure if you take a few days to think it over...talk with Buffy about it - "

Remus rose to his feet, shaking his head. "There's nothing to talk about, because I won't do it." he repeated, his teeth gritted. Why couldn't Dumbledore understand that he didn't want to do this? "I'm really sorry, but I can't."

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "I have always seen a potential for greatness in you, Remus," he said slowly. "Won't you grant me this small favour?"

"_Small _favour?" Remus laughed incredulously, and instead of the guilt Dumbledore was doubtlessly trying to make him feel, indignation rose up in its stead. Dumbledore had always told him that he could go his own way: that he was _different _from most werewolves – and yet, now, the Headmaster wanted to use him - because he was a werewolf. What kind of double standard was that? "This is _not _a _small_ favour! I realise it's for the Order – for the cause, but taking the Dark Mark – even if it would be to spy – is a line I can't cross. I'm sorry."

Dumbledore hung his head. "I am very sorry to hear that. And extremely disappointed." Remus flinched but forced himself to keep his head high. Dumbledore sighed heavily when he realised Remus wouldn't budge. "You may leave. I will simply have to find another solution. Hopefully, one of the other Order members realise the importance of this and are brave enough to take the risk."

Remus quickly left, doing his best to push away the sting of the Headmaster's dissatisfaction.

* * *

"Hey, you're home!" Buffy looked up from her magazine when she heard the door slam. "What did Dumbledore want? Was it about that mission you had prior to Romania?" She frowned when she sensed Remus' emotions in the back of her head: a large bout of anger mixed up with shame.

"Sort of," Remus muttered, sitting on the sofa beside her, a frown on his face. Buffy put down her magazine, putting a hand on his tights.

"Talk to me," she asked. "Please? What did he say? What's wrong?"

Remus shook his head. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Well, that's easy to say, but less easy to do," Buffy countered. "Especially when I can feel you're upset. I thought we decided to have no more secrets!"

"No, we decided to be more honest," Remus countered.

"Right," Buffy drawled. "And you're _so_ honest when you say nothing's wrong."

"Well, nothing's wrong that's any of your concern."

"My problems are your problems," Buffy sing-songed, poking his side, and, despite himself, Remus' lips twitched. "Please, Re." She pouted. "Tell me."

"You can't do anything about it anyway," Remus said, exasperatedly.

"Well, I can make you feel better," Buffy challenged. "Come on, Re! Tell me, or I'll hold the letter we got from Jasper today hostage until you do."

Remus chuckled, and the anger he felt at Dumbledore began to drift away. "You drive a hard bargain."

"You're not giving me much choice," Buffy said.

Remus pursed his lips. "Well, let's just say Dumbledore and I had a slight disagreement. He...wanted me to do something I wasn't comfortable with."

"And he became angry at you?" Buffy asked, incredulous, hardly believing that of the rather easy-going Headmaster. Well, easy-going for being an old person, anyway.

"More disappointed," Remus said quietly. "I think I would have preferred him angry. He's done so much for me...allowing me to join Hogwarts as a child, and lots of other things."

"Well, even if you think you owe him something, there is a limit to it," Buffy determined. "And if you didn't want to do what he asked, that limit was passed, it wasn't worth it, and you weren't the right person for it."

"So...that I turned the assignment down partly because I felt it was too risky...you don't think it was cowardly of me?" Remus asked, and Buffy's eyes widened.

"No! Why would you think - ?" Buffy stared, and then took a deep breath. "If the thing he asked you to do is as dangerous as it sounds – and believe me, I have my suspicions of what it was, even if you won't tell me – there can be no hesitation in the person who eventually does accept it, if anyone do. Stop beating yourself up over it, Re. Personally, I'm glad you didn't accept. I don't want anything to happen to you." Buffy grasped his hand. "You mean...so much to me, Re. Soulmates, remember? _And _best friends. Anything that has the possibility of parting us for a long period of time or putting you in danger is definitely bad in my book. Call me selfish, but that's how I feel. You come first. Even before the war."

Remus smiled gently as he was reminded of the main reason – other than uncertainty in his own abilities - he had turned down Dumbledore's _request._ And it was sitting right in front of him. "You come first for me too."

"I'm glad to hear it. Now, want some chocolate ice-cream?" Buffy rose to her feet and disappeared into the kitchen.

Remus chuckled, feeling a lot better about himself. "Sure. And could I read Jasper's letter as well?"

"Of course! It's on the table."

Remus looked, and sure enough, there it was, with Australian stamps in the corner – clearly it had come by muggle post. "You weren't holding it hostage," Remus noted somewhat accusingly as Buffy returned with the ice-cream.

Buffy smirked in self-satisfaction. "Well, it's not my fault you didn't notice it was right in front of you. Really, Re, it's a good thing you didn't accept that spy-gig, considering how utterly unobservant you are."

Remus dropped the spoon he had just been given. "You know what the mission was?" He blurted out, and Buffy snorted.

"No. I _suspected," _she corrected. "Though you just confirmed it."

Remus gawked at her in shock, only to get his mouth stuffed full of ice-cream, courtesy of his girlfriend.

"Oh, stop that!" Buffy exclaimed as she saw his expression. "It was only a matter of time before I figured it out and you know it. And now when I have the truth established, I'm even more relieved you didn't take it. Being a spy in Voldemort's camp is a mission doomed to fail sooner or later, and I'm glad you're not going. I like you_ alive. _Having had one dead boyfriend is quite enough, even though he was _living _dead. In your case, I think there would only be the _totally _dead variety. Which would _really_ suck."

Remus chuckled. "You're right. And I'm tired of missions in which I have to pretend to be someone other than not. And when I turned the assignment down...well, it was partly out of fear, but also because of you."

"Because of me?" Buffy looked surprised.

"Yes," Remus nodded slowly. "I've been so busy lately, going on all these long-term, dangerous assignments. I haven't been around, and I know you worry about me when I'm gone. And when Dumbledore asked me to go on yet another mission, I realised that I've been unfair to you. I've been so wrapped up in my own problems that I haven't made time for our relationship. This war is already doing so much damage, but I won't let it destroy us or what we have."

Buffy grinned at him. "Good. Because I won't let it either." She held up another spoon-full of chocolaty goodness. "More ice-cream?"

Remus' eyes gleamed. "How about we take the ice-cream to bed?"

Buffy's grin widened. "That's the best idea I've heard all day."

* * *

**16 September**

"...And I believe that concludes the day's meeting," Dumbledore said.

"Actually, I want a word," Buffy said, standing up. "As I'm sure you remember, a few months ago, I suggested we all train ourselves in the art of fighting physically, so we'll stand a better chance against Voldemort's forces, but nothing ever came of it. Well, right now, I'm more convinced than ever that it's something we really need to do."

She looked around the Order members gathered in Marlene's basement for the meeting, a frown on her face. "With more and more people joining Voldemort's cause, as well as him gathering vampires and werewolves to his side, we need every little advantage we can get. As you know, it takes a lot of effort to affect them with magic. But if you learned to fight like I do, we'd stand a better chance of taking them down, along with wearing his Death Eaters down from exhaustion as this will also give us better endurance."

Mumbles of agreement came from the gathered people, a lot more than last time, to Buffy's surprise. "Hear, hear!" Sirius said, and the Marauders grinned at her in support.

Dumbledore sighed tiredly. "You are right, of course, and perhaps we should have made more of an effort to make it happen the first time you suggested it," he said. "But this is not something for me. If I were a couple of decades younger, though..."

"And not for me either, though it is a good idea," Moody cut in.

"Still, for the younger, more agile members, the idea has promise. Marlene, if you are willing to lend Buffy and the Order your basement for a few more hours, she can hold her first training session now."

"Of course. Just let me floo to my husband's mother's house: I need to tell him to keep Chelsea there for a couple of more hours," Marlene said, quickly leaving the room. Chelsea was her daughter, and the pearl of her world: in fact, she was one of Marlene's main reasons for joining the Order – she wanted this war over, so Chelsea would never have to face the darkness of it, or fight in it, like she was now.

"I will take my leave, but I'm looking forward to seeing your progress in battle," Dumbledore said and left, followed by the older members of the Order.

Buffy looked rather stunned by this development. _Now?_ She was supposed to train them now? Buffy had barely expected an agreement to her idea, considering the opposition it had had last time, and as such, had thought she would have had at least a few more days to prepare for it to happen. "Um...right," she muttered, still rather overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all. "Well, while we wait for Marlene to come back, why don't we make this room a bit more practice friendly? Remus, could you charm the walls to become softer, while Lily expands the room a bit? And James, would you conjure some mattresses? Sirius, if you could banish the furniture, that would be great."

"No problem, queen Buffy," Sirius joked.

They were just finished when Marlene returned.

"Great! We're all here," Buffy said, settling down on the mattresses and motioning for the Order members to do the same, feeling rather nervous. "First thing first: you've got to lose the robes. They're too restrictive to fight in properly. Comfortable clothes you can move in freely, people, is a must."

"And that's why you fight in long skirts," Lily joked and Buffy mock-glared.

"Not my clothing of choice during a fight," she said. "Though sometimes you have no other option if a battle comes suddenly with no warning. But if possible, no robes. That goes for these sessions too, of course."

"While our robes are somewhat restrictive," Caradoc said, "they also have their uses, such as the protective spells against minor curses and hexes woven into them."

"And I'm sure putting those spells on, say, pants and a t-shirt is completely impossible?" Buffy questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Caradoc pursed his lips. "Of course not."

"Then I see no problem. Moving on: since you're all wearing robes today, and I had no prior preparation to this meeting, I'm just going to go through some basic moves. Pair up two and two, please: Re, you're with me."

Remus winced, and James, who, of course, had partnered up with his wife, patted his shoulder in sympathy. "Tough luck, mate."

"Please, go easy on me?" Remus begged Buffy, who just smirked. Remus' shoulders slumped. "I'm doomed."

Buffy smacked his shoulder playfully in mock-anger. "If anyone can keep up, it's you."

"Because of my lycanthropic senses?" Remus asked, somewhat dryly.

"No, because you know me better than anyone." Remus was left grinning stupidly as Buffy moved away, telling the Order members to hand their wands over.

"You're such a dope," James grinned at Remus, who stuck out his tongue.

"Like you're not when it comes to Lily."

James shrugged, throwing a grin at his wife that looked even sappier than the one on Remus' face. "Touché." Lily just rolled her eyes.

"Looks like we're the only two left without a partner," Eliza said, moving to Caradoc's side and smiling nervously at him.

The dark-haired Order member rolled his eyes. "Joy," he muttered, and earned himself a slap on the head from Buffy as she walked past.

"No sarcasm in the ranks," she told him. "Unless you're me, of course."

"Merlin forbid," Caradoc grumbled, regretfully giving Buffy his wand when she held out her hand, palm up, expectantly.

"Oh, don't look so glum, Car," the Slayer said cheerily. "You'll get it back. Eventually."

Caradoc groaned. "I should have used my common sense and left with Dumbledore."

* * *

**23 September**

"Ah, Dorcas," Dumbledore greeted the red-headed Order member as she stepped into his office. "I'm so pleased you could join me on such short notice. How did Buffy's first training session go? I haven't been in touch with anyone from the Order since the last meeting, other than Minerva, and she didn't attend it."

Dorcas groaned as she sat down in the chair in front of his desk. "It went well, though I have to say, that girl is brutal! I still have bruises. She was very efficient though, and I believe the sessions are a good thing."

"Indeed." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he leaned forward. "Now, I did summon you here for a very important reason. I have a rather large, dangerous mission that I want you to undertake. Of course, it is voluntary, but it would be a great help to our cause."

"Anything to help defeat You-Know-Who," Dorcas said, straightening her back. "What do you wish for me to do?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I truly hoped I wouldn't need to ask anyone this, but the fact is, we are slowly, but surely, beginning to lose this war. We are in desperate need of information regarding Voldemort and his forces, as well as his plans, if we are to regain the upper hand and a chance to beat him and put an end to all this carnage and destruction, once and for all."

For several seconds, Dorcas was silent. "You want me to spy on him," she finally said.

"No, I don't want you to. I _need _you to," Dumbledore corrected gently. "We need someone on the inside who can report what's going on. I realise spying is a great risk, but sometimes, personal sacrifice is necessary for the greater good."

"Why me?" Dorcas asked slowly. "Why not someone else?"

"You are in the best position to do so," Dumbledore said. "I asked Remus – as a werewolf, he would be an ideal spy, but he said no. Understandable, considering the danger. You were my second choice, for obvious reasons. You are an Occlumens, and as such can hide your true intentions and alliance, you're not part of the Magical Law Enforcement, you're a pureblood, which will make your turning appear more realistic, you don't have any living family and as such less to lose, and you're the right age to begin to question things: you aren't too old and perhaps too ingrained in the light's side of thinking to switch, and not too young and as such lacking the idealistic views of someone who has only recently become involved with the war. In conclusion – the best person for the job."

Dorcas chewed her lips in thought. "I'll do it," she finally said, swallowing bravely.

Dumbledore looked at her, a grave expression on his ageing face. "Are you absolutely certain of this decision, Dorcas? There can be no doubts."

"I am certain," Dorcas said. "Someone has to do this – we need the information and like you said, I really am in the best position to succeed. If you truly think I can do this, then I will make sure your faith in me has not been misplaced. I won't let you down, sir."

Dumbledore smiled. "I am sure you won't," he said. "I am very proud of you."

Dorcas smiled, her heart thumping wildly in her ribcage. She could do this, she told herself. She _would_ do this, and do it well. She took a deep breath. "What do I need to do to become a part of Voldemort's ranks?"

"The first step is to convince one of his Death Eaters to take you before him. And I think I have the perfect candidate for you to approach. I believe you are familiar with Severus Snape...?"

* * *

**2 October**

"I'm off to work!" Mandy yelled at Sirius through the closed bathroom door: the water was running, so clearly, her boyfriend was in the shower.

"Could you check the mail first?" Sirius yelled back. "I saw an owl outside right before I stepped in here!"

Mandy rolled her eyes. Sirius was always too lazy to do get the mail himself, unless he happened to be alone at home, or the owl appeared in front of him personally. And, since Mandy hadn't left yet, he obviously thought she could do it, even though he'd been there when the owl showed up. Though they didn't often get any post other than the _Daily Prophet. _

Waving her wand and mumbling a spell under her breath, Mandy nodded to herself when a message appeared in the air, floating in front of her in silver letters: _You've got time. _Another flick dispelled the message. "Fine!" She yelled. "Though you are _so_ lazy!"

Walking into the kitchen, she opened the window and let a rather disgruntled-looking owl inside, and it dropped the Daily Prophet into her lap. Paying it, it pecked her in thanks, before taking off. Mandy was just about to close the window, when she saw another owl flying in her direction. Pleasantly surprised, she noted it was Lucan's owl: regrettably, she had barely been in touch with him since graduation, but she'd been so busy...

"Hi, Lancelot," she smiled, stroking the owl's black feathers, and the animal puffed up his feathers proudly. "You are so vain," she muttered, and if possible, the owl looked even more self-satisfied. "Do you have something for me?" She stopped stroking him, and looked at him expectantly. Lancelot squawked, once, before dropping the rather formal letter he was carrying in his beak, into her now waiting hands, before nipping her finger gently, before flying off: even in the air, the owl looked haughty and full of himself. Chuckling, she opened the beautiful looking envelop, her eyebrows rising in surprise as she read the contents:

_Mr. & Mrs. Greengrass  
__request the pleasure of your company  
__at the marriage of their daughter  
__Belinda Iris  
__to  
__Mr. Lucan Joseph Davis  
__On Sunday afternoon, the eleventh of October  
__at five o'clock  
__Greengrass Estate_

Below, in a smaller script, written in what she recognised as Lucan's handwriting, stood a less formal message to her: _Dear Mandy, Belinda and I would love for you to be present at our wedding, along with Sirius and whatever friends you choose to invite. We'll need people who truly care about us at what is sure to become a crazy event: _

_Belinda's parents are planning a large wedding, with the majority of pureblood society invited. Belinda wanted you to be in the ceremony, either as her maid-of-honour or a bridesmaid, but her parents put their foot down: __her brother is going to be my best-man and her brother's wife her maid-of-honour, and some cousins of hers that I have never met are going to be bridesmaids. I hope you are not too disappointed. _

_It is not what Belinda and I wish, but since we are both grateful her parents have given their blessing, despite my status as a muggleborn, we are letting them have their way. After all, it is not the ceremony that counts, but the forever that comes after. _

_Your friend, Lucan._

Excited now, despite the fact that she wouldn't be a part of the ceremony, Mandy quickly made her way to write a response, completely forgetting about her training at Gringotts – which she was really enjoying. "Sirius!" She banged on the bathroom door. "Sirius!"

The water stopped running. "What?"

"We've got a letter from Lucan and Belinda!"

"So?" Sirius asked.

"They're getting married!" Mandy squealed.

She could hear footsteps on the other side of the door, and then, it swung open, a dripping wet Sirius standing in the doorway, a loose towel tied around his waist. "Really?" He asked and Mandy nodded.

"Yes. And we're both invited, along with our friends."

"Well, are we going?" Sirius asked.

"Of course we are!" Mandy exclaimed. "Lucan is my best friend, even if I have barely seen him since graduation." She bit her lip guiltily. "I am an awful friend. I didn't even know they got engaged."

"Well, we've been busy," Sirius said. "I must admit I am surprised though."

"Why?" Mandy asked. "Didn't you think they would last?"

"No, it's not that – but I didn't think Greengrass' parents would allow it. She's a pureblood, isn't she? And Lucan isn't."

"Well, Lucan may be muggleborn, but he inherited quite a lot of money when his parents were killed," Mandy said. "Enough to live comfortably on for quite some time. And not everyone's parents are like yours, even if they're pureblooded – no offence."

"None taken," Sirius said. "Well, I'm happy for them. But...shouldn't you be getting to work? I still have an hour, but...you don't."

Mandy paled, and quickly waved her wand in front of her. This time, the message that reported the time (well, sort of), was a lot less positive: _You're late. Inexcusably late._

"Shit!" Mandy swore, thrusting the letter in Sirius wet hands. "Goblins hate tardiness! This is your entire fault, you know!" She yelled over her shoulder as she rushed to the hall.

"My fault?" Sirius asked dumbly. "How is this _my _fault?"

"Oh, just get dried off and answer the letter, will you?" Mandy huffed as she pulled on her shoes, not bothering to tie the shoelaces, grabbed her jacket, and rushed out the door, slamming it behind her.

"Women," Sirius muttered, rolling his eyes.

* * *

**7 October**

Buffy was at work at St. Mungo's, and quite happy about it: today, she'd been given the opportunity to treat a patient without supervision, something that had only happened once, and that was before she had finally chosen her specialty - creature induced injuries. After much thought, Buffy had realised it really was the most fitting choice for her, considering Remus' lycanthropy and her own status as the Slayer.

Her eyes glued to the medical chart she held in her hands, and her wand stuck through the bun she had her hair kept in so it wouldn't get in the way, she walked into the patient's room. Looking up, she smiled at the middle-aged man sitting on the bed inside, his cane leaning against the bedside table.

"Mr. Minelli...you were slashed by a werewolf during the full moon two days ago, correct?" Buffy asked kindly.

"Actually, it's Malfoy," the handsome but cruel looking man sitting on the bed said, dispelling the glamour he was wearing with a flick of his wand. "Lucius Malfoy." Buffy paled and dropped her chart out of pure shock. "What a creative place to put your wand," the pureblood said, amused, glancing at her hair.

"I can think of an even better place to stick it," Buffy countered.

"Now, now, none of that," Malfoy admonished. "Think of your manners."

Buffy's left eye twitched in annoyance. God, she wished he'd be a vampire or something. At least then she could stake him...but alas, no luck. But then again...he wasn't really much of an asset to humanity, so maybe she could make an exception against her rule of not killing humans... "What are you doing here? I doubt you were the victim of a werewolf attack. In fact, I'd bet the only contact you have with them is when you sick them on someone else."

Lucius chuckled, grabbing his cane – which clearly wasn't used as a walking stick – and placing it across his lap. "I just wanted to have a word."

"Well, you've had several. So unless you're in need of actual hospital care, I suggest you get out," Buffy said coldly.

"Temper, Miss Summers," Malfoy shook his finger at her.

Buffy's anger flared up even stronger, but she managed to keep it on a lid. "I have to go," she said stiffly. "I have _actual _patients." She turned to leave, but was stopped by a hard grip around her wrist. Buffy glared at the blonde aristocrat coldly. "I suggest you remove your hand before I remove it for you."

Malfoy just raised an eyebrow. "Will you now? Wouldn't that be rather difficult to explain to your boss? Especially considering my family donates a lot of money to this hospital."

Buffy fumed silently. "Just tell me what you came here to say."

Lucius smiled in cold satisfaction. "Now that's more like it. The Dark Lord has taken an interest in you, Miss Summers, after his recent attack on this very hospital, in fact." He let go of her arm and before he could react, Buffy swung her fist, which connected solidly with Malfoy's nose. The Death Eater howled in agony, clutching it as it began flowing with blood, staining his robes.

"Well, you can tell your Lord that while he might be interested in me, I have no interest in him whatsoever," Buffy said, making no move to help Malfoy stop the blood from pouring. She'd probably regret her action later, considering she might lose her job over this – something she in all honesty couldn't afford – but right now, it was _so_ worth it. "So you might as well save your recruitment speech and give it to someone more gullible."

She leaned forward above Malfoy who had tears in his eyes from the pain. "I'm not going to join him. Not now, not ever, and the only contact he and I will have is when I kick him in the balls, and then throw his ass back to hell where it belongs. He has no idea who he's messing with."

"You'll regret this," Malfoy wheezed out, standing up. "If the Dark Lord doesn't kill you,_ I_ will."

"Good luck with that," Buffy said coldly. "I'm looking forward to your attempts."

"Bitch," Malfoy spat.

Buffy smiled maliciously. "Slayer," she corrected, all too pleasantly, before her expression darkened. "Now get the Hell out of here."

* * *

"Well?" Voldemort drawled out, staring at the kneeling Lucius Malfoy with a raised eyebrow, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his throne. "What did she say?"

Malfoy gulped. "Not much, my Lord," he said. "But the overall message is that she is not going to join you. Ever. This opinion was made quite clear when she punched me in the face."

The Dark Lord began to chuckle, First, slowly, and rather quietly, but soon, they turned into full-blown, malicious laughter. "Your face, Lucius? I imagine that didn't please you?"

Lucius looked up, his nose red and swollen, even after healing it. "No, my Lord," the pureblood bit out through gritted teeth. "And she will regret it."

"Of course she will," Voldemort said, sounding bored. "Do what you want with her. I don't care, as long as you don't kill her."

"Forgive me for asking, but _why, _my Lord?" Lucius questioned angrily, pounding his fist against the floor. "She has defied you – shouldn't she die for that?"

Voldemort looked at him coldly. "And she will, Lucius. Eventually. Show some restraint. I can't have her dying before I have her powers, after all... And since she won't join me, I will have to acquire them in another way. Unfortunately, it will take awhile – obtaining someone else's magical essence is a very complicated process, and I am not even certain her powers as a Slayer are completely magical in origin. I will need to do a lot of research and preparation before I can make it happen, but I assure you, it will. And then, my dear, impatient Lucius, you may dispose of her – in whichever way you see fit."

"It will be painful and humiliating, my Lord," Lucius vowed, and the Dark Lord smiled into the dark. Inwardly, he was trying to decide whether stealing Buffy Summer's Slayer powers should take precedence over searching for the magical power source he was trying to find. While the power source was more important, he was unfortunately getting nowhere in his research: the book was gone, and the clues and information he had wasn't enough to go on.

The cartographer he and his followers had kidnapped from the Ministry had so far been of no help. Although, perhaps he just needed a little more...incentive. Yes, he would make sure the historian was doing all in his power to help him in his quest by having his Death Eaters kidnap the man's family. And while the cartographer worked on his maps, he would delve into research about everything he could get his hands on regarding the so-called _myth_ of the Slayer.

"I would expect no less from you, Lucius," Voldemort hissed, feeling pleased. Plotting always put him in the best of moods...

* * *

_**Published: **23__/02 -11_


	27. Costumes

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**19 October**

The bell above the door jingled when Dorcas opened it and entered the apothecary in Diagon Alley. With a winning smile, she walked up to the counter. "Hi," she said, leaning forward to show a little bit of her cleavage. "I'm looking for Severus Snape. He works here, doesn't he?"

The old store-keeper leered at her, his eyes travelling up and down her figure in appreciation. "Yes. What's a lass like you want with him, eh?"

Dorcas giggled, while inwardly, she was doing her best not to gag. "It's a secret," she winked. "Could you tell him to get out here? And...perhaps give him an hour off?"

The store-keeper chuckled. "Sure thing, pretty. Oi, Snape! There's a lady here to see you!"

The sound of thundering footsteps reached Dorcas ears, and then, Snape was there, a hopeful expression on his face. "Lily?" He gasped, looking eager. His face visibly fell when he caught sight of Dorcas. "Can I help you?" He asked, his expression one of barely held back distain.

Dorcas smiled widely. "You can take a walk with me," she suggested. "I have a...proposition."

"What kind of proposition?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"Come with me and find out," Dorcas said, counting on Snape's curiosity to do half the work for her. That, and she was a red-head, and Snape had always had a thing for those: especially Lily Evans – the devotion – or rather obsession - he held for her while in school was rather sickening. Even Dorcas, who had been a Ravenclaw four years above them had noticed the way Snape had always trailed behind her like a little puppy.

"Fine," Snape snapped out, slinking into the back for a second or two, before he returned, wearing thick, black winter-robes. "Let's go."

Stepping into the cold alley, Dorcas immediately wrapped her jacket tighter around her body, pulling up the hood on her cloak. "Come on." She led Snape to Knockturn Alley, to the Slytherin's surprise.

"What do you want, Meaton?" Snape hissed.

"It's Meadowes," Dorcas corrected. "And I want in."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Snape said through gritted teeth.

"The Dark Lord," Dorcas said bluntly. "I want in."

Snape looked at her like she was insane, and for a second, Dorcas thought that perhaps Dumbledore had been mistaken and Snape wasn't a Death Eater after all. But then, he began to chuckle. _"You _want to join the Dark Lord?" He questioned, sounding amused.

"Is something funny about that?" Dorcas asked, her voice cold, and Snape stopped chuckling abruptly.

"No. Not funny at all. Just rather...surprising. Unlikely, in fact."

"Why?" Dorcas challenged.

"You don't seem the type, that's all," Snape said, an eyebrow raised as his black eyes stared into hers. Dorcas quickly raised her Occlumency shields to their full strength.

"Well, appearances can be deceiving," Dorcas snapped. "And I'm tired of being on the losing side. I'm a powerful witch, Snape. I'm also intelligent, resourceful, ambitious and a lot of other things. The Dark Lord will win. And I'd prefer it if I was alive when that happens."

"You don't want to join the Dark Lord, Meadowes," Snape said, sounding bored. "I don't know what game you're playing, but if you think I'm going to bring you before my master to be marked, you're delirious."

"Why?" Dorcas smiled sweetly. "Don't you trust me?"

Snape's face darkened. "I don't trust anyone."

"Fine." Dorcas crossed her arms. "What do I have to do to prove that I'm serious?"

"Well, you have to pass the Dark Lord's initiation rites, of course," Snape began. "And...I want you to pass a test of my own, before I even think of bringing you to him."

"And what's that?" Dorcas asked coldly. "Do you want me strip? Sleep with you? Kill someone? I'm game." She forced her voice not to shake and hoped Snape couldn't somehow hear the sound of her heart beating furiously against her ribcage, half in terror, half in disgust.

"None of the above, though the first two sound like a nice bonus," Snape stated, and there was no mistaking the lustful glint in his eyes for something else. "Lower your Occlumency barriers."

Dorcas blank expression faltered slightly. "What?"

Snape smirked. "If joining the Dark Lord is truly what you want, I'm certain you'll have no trouble with lowering your mental defences so I can see for myself," he said silkily.

"I don't let anyone into my head, Snape," Dorcas bit out.

"Too bad." Snape spun around, his robes swirling around his legs as he began to walk away.

"Wait!" Dorcas shouted desperately, and Snape stopped. Licking her lips nervously, Dorcas began to bring selective memories and feelings to the surface, before she slowly lowered her mental shields. Dumbledore counted on her to succeed. She couldn't allow herself to fail. "Fine."

A triumphant expression appeared on Snape's face before it emptied of all emotion. He turned back around, placing his hands on either side of Dorcas' head, against the wall she was leaning against, as he stared into her eyes. "Well, then, Meadowes...let's see what secrets your mind holds."

And then, he dived in.

_The Sorting Hat's whispers:__ '...There's intelligence there...and ambition, oh yes. You'd do great in Slytherin...but also in RAVENCLAW!'_

_The Dark Lord's attacks...so much death and destruction. A feeling of desperation, a thought: __'Things can't go on like this...'_

_The Dark Lord laughing as his killing curses struck the people standing against him. Fear: __'How can we possibly win? He's so powerful...'_

_The Order of the Phoenix...Lupin's voice: "The majority of the werewolf packs I met with have all sided with Voldemort... It seems Voldemort has also recruited heavily in other countries as well, not only in Romania, and several vampire clans have agreed to aid him..."_

And all the memories were covered with a feeling of thirst, a fervent need to join the Dark Lord. Snape pulled out. "You're a member of Dumbledore's Order," he stated accusingly.

"Yes," Dorcas said calmly, pulling her shields back up. "Why do you think I'm so aware of the fact that we're losing? The public only knows half of what's really going on. Look, that I'm a member of the Order...isn't that a good thing? I could spy for the Dark Lord! Report what's going on during the meetings!"

"How convenient," Snape sneered.

"You've seen my mind!" Dorcas said. "Haven't I proved myself?"

"Hardly," Snape snorted. "I'm a master Legilimens and Occlumens, Meadowes. I know how easy it is to manipulate memories, to only show what you want the viewer to see. If I had delved deeper, I'm sure I would have been shown a lot of things that proves the opposite of what you want me to think. However," he continued, smirking as he saw Dorcas gulp. "I am willing to humour you, for now. I will take you before the Dark Lord."

"Y-you are?" Dorcas stammered.

"Indeed. It could be...a fun experiment, for me. To see how long you last. And...you will owe me a favour. After all, I could, at any time, choose to expose you."

Dorcas glared. "You disgust me, Snape."

"And your true colours come out at last," Snape's lips twitched in satisfaction.

Dorcas' shoulders slumped. "What sort of favour?"

Snape chuckled. "You really are desperate to join the Dark Lord, aren't you, Meadowes? Has Dumbledore given you the mission to infiltrate his ranks?"

"That's none of your business," Dorcas hissed.

"I'll take that as a yes," Snape's eyes glinted. "Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into, Meadowes? And I'm asking you this as someone who actually cares somewhat, at least in comparison to the other Death Eaters. Life under You-Know-Who is not a dance on roses. Especially not for his female followers, unless you're Bellatrix and already half-insane to begin with, and as such, too stupid to realise it."

Dorcas shuddered. "W-why are you telling me this?" She asked. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," Snape snapped. "Not really. I'm just making sure you realise joining the Dark Lord is not for the faint-hearted. Even if it's only to pretend to be on his side. But if you can't even keep up a facade in front of me, how do you think you'll manage in front of You-Know-Who? Be realistic."

"I am well aware of the risks. And I can do it," Dorcas said, raising her head proudly. "What I want to know is why you're helping me. What's in it for you?"

"Like I said...you'll owe me a favour. And as the saying goes: _Keep your friends close..."_

"_And your enemies closer," _Dorcas finished. "Yes, I know. But I doubt that's all of it."

"Let's just say I'm looking out for my own best interests," Snape whispered in her ear. "And I'm not so certain the Dark Lord's victory is it."

"Then why did you join him?" Dorcas questioned.

"That's private," Snape hissed. "And while I may not be a fanatical believer in the Dark Lord and his cause, it does not mean I believe in your so-called _light _side either."

"Then what _do_ you believe in?" Dorcas asked quietly, and honestly curious, seeing for the first time that Snape was _lonely._

Snape's expression became a blank mask. "I am still figuring that part out."

* * *

**31 October**

"Happy Halloween, Frank," Alice said, grinning widely at her husband, who burst out laughing when he saw her.

"What are you wearing?" He got out through helpless gasps of laughter.

"My Halloween costume," Alice twirled around. "Don't you like it?"

"It's very...orange," Frank said, trying to be diplomatic, before he burst out into helpless laughter again. Alice had dressed up as a giant pumpkin.

"I thought you could be Cinderella," Alice said sweetly, holding up a blue dress she'd been hiding behind her back.

Frank choked. "You're joking."

"Nope."

"Alice, I love you, but cross-dressing, even if it's for Halloween, is a little much," Frank said, looking close to fainting.

It was Alice turn to laugh. "I'm kidding. Your real costume is upstairs."

"Oh, thank Merlin. And...are you really wearing that?" He eyed her pumpkin costume dubiously. "It will make it rather difficult to hug you...I don't think my arms can reach around your waist in that get-up."

Alice rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not really wearing this. My real costume is hanging in the closet in the living room. Now, get dressed, or we'll be late for the party!"

Frank sighed. "Well, is my costume cool, at least?" He asked, standing up.

Alice smiled mischievously. "The theme is _Star Wars."_

"I haven't seen that movie," Frank frowned.

"Well, luckily for you, I have." Alice placed a kiss on his cheek. "Your costume is that of a very loyal, fierce creature."

Frank lit up. "Great!"

* * *

When James opened the doors to Potter manor to let Frank and Alice inside, he began to chortle. Soon, his chuckles turned into full-blown laughs.

"It's not funny!" Frank's voice, slightly muffled and distorted, said, from beneath the golden visage of C-3PO.

"It sort of is," James commented, adjusting the black vest he was wearing.

"Well, why couldn't I get a costume like yours?" Frank whined. "Why do I have to be a robot, of all things? Who are you supposed to be?"

"Han Solo," James said, still chuckling. "Lily is Princess Leia, Remus is Luke, Sirius dressed up as Chewbacca, Mandy decided to go as Darth Vader for some reason, and Buffy is someone called Mara Jade, who's a character from some books about Star Wars."

"Couldn't you have picked a theme from a movie I've actually watched?" Frank's voice, rather nasal due to the mask he was wearing, said.

"Oh, stop pouting," Alice said, patting his metal-head comfortingly. "At least you're shiny. I could have made you dress up as Jabba the Hutt."

James burst out into new guffaws.

"Who's Jabba the Hutt?" Frank demanded to know, walking inside stiffly. "And I can't move in this! Or breathe!"

"Hey, Frank, looking good!" Buffy giggled from her place beside Mandy.

"Oh, stop making fun of him," Sirius said. "I sympathize, really. I'm sort of regretting picking Chewbacca. This costume is hot!"

"You're supposed to talk Wookie, darling," Mandy told him, pulling of her Darth Vader mask she was wearing over her head. "But you're right. I should have chosen to go as someone who's not wearing full-body armour all the time. And who's preferably female." She glanced enviously at Buffy and Lily.

"Kind of difficult," Buffy said. "There aren't that many females in the Star Wars universe: Leia is pretty much it, at least in the movies. By the way, Alice, you rock your beard."

Alice beamed, fingering the fake beard she wore as part of her Obi-Wan Kenobi get-up. "Thanks! Where is Peter, by the way?"

"He's spending Halloween with his girlfriend, Claire, in the muggle world," Remus commented.

Alice frowned. "I didn't know he had a new girlfriend."

"They've been dating for a couple of months," Lily said, sighing, as she remembered Samantha, whose death was still painful to recall. It hurt less now than when it had happened, but they would never forget her. Still, they were happy that Peter seemed to be moving on.

"Well, that's a good sign, isn't it?" Frank said. "Two months is rather long. And Samantha has been gone for some time now..."

"If I lost Mandy, I don't think I could move on," Sirius muttered, pulling off his Chewbacca mask. "No matter how much time passed."

Everyone exchanged glances with their respective others, feeling the exact same thing.

* * *

The eight friends had just settled down to eat dinner when a small 'pop' was heard, and Toby, one of Lily and James' two house-elves, appeared, bowing low. "Toby?" James asked. "Is something the matter?"

"You have a floo-call from Headmaster Dumbledore, master James," Toby said.

"Dumbledore?" James asked, looking confused. "But it's Halloween..."

Buffy groaned, and let her head fall onto the tabletop with a loud thump. "Something bad has happened. I just know it."

Remus gawked at her. "How?"

Buffy looked up, a tired glare on her face. "Because it's Halloween, doofus! If anything out of the ordinary happens on Halloween, it's always bad, especially if your name is Buffy, the Vampire Slayer."

Sirius smirked. "I thought your last name was Summers."

Buffy stuck out her tongue.

"I still don't see it," Remus said. "Nothing bad has happened during the last two Halloweens..."

"Well, just trust me on this, okay?" Buffy said. "It's Slayer instinct. I only pray to God it has nothing to do with turning into your costume..." Sirius, Frank, Alice and Mandy paled, even as Buffy cocked her head thoughtfully. "But on a second thought, that may not be a bad thing this time since I'm _not _dressed up as a woman who does nothing but faint in the face of danger, quite the opposite. Though I would feel sorry for Frank."

"I'll just go talk to Dumbledore," James muttered, staring at the Slayer like she was insane, before standing and leaving the room.

Soon, he was back. "Buffy was right."

"We're turning into Star Wars characters?" Sirius asked dumbly.

"No!" James exclaimed. "But something bad did happen – there's an attack at Diagon Alley. Let's grab our wands and get out of our costumes. Well, those who have to."

"But I'm only wearing boxers under this!" Frank exclaimed, gesturing at himself. Despite the seriousness of the situation, everyone snorted. "And stop laughing! It was the only way to get myself into it...that, and lots of body-gel." He grimaced.

"I'll loan you some of my clothes," James offered. "But wash off the gel first." He sniggered.

Buffy, who was wearing a black - and very tight – jumpsuit (Remus' eyes had nearly bulged out of his head when he first saw her in it), felt ready to go, once she got rid of her fake blaster and fake lightsaber. Likewise, Remus and James were okay as they were. Everyone else, however, had to get out of their get-ups, since their clothing were more or less inappropriate for a magical battle. Luckily, Sirius, Mandy and Alice, unlike Frank, actually wore normal clothes underneath their costumes, and since Lily lived at the manor, it was easy enough for her to change.

Before long, they were all ready, and apparated into the very midst of battle, immediately forced to duck as a fiery explosion occurred only a few feet away.

"Oh, they did _not _just set fire to _Flourish and Blotts!"_ Remus exclaimed, snapping around to stare at the burning building that had just gone up in flames from the explosion that the shop beside it had suffered.

"Less worry about the papers, and more about the people," Buffy yelled, throwing herself into the battle.

It didn't seem like Remus thought the books were nothing to be worried about, but quickly moved to duel side by side with Eliza, who had already been at the sight with some other Order members when they arrived.

"How long have you been here?" Remus asked the French girl as they stood side by side.

"Since before the battle actually," Eliza answered. "I was planning to attend the Halloween feast at Hogwarts with the rest of the staff, but then Caradoc invited me to a party at the Leaky Cauldron instead."

"Caradoc?" Remus exclaimed, ducking a yellow curse coming in his direction. "Never took him for a party-goer."

Eliza grinned. "I didn't either, but I'm glad he asked. As much fun as the feast at Hogwarts sound, I don't really have much in common with my colleagues: they're all a lot older than me. And Caradoc and I hit it off when Buffy paired us together during her training session. He's really not so bad once you get past the tough exterior."

"Buffy feels the same way," Remus said. "She is convinced Caradoc has a worse bark than bite, and that deep inside, he's a real softie. Where is he, by the way?"

"He stayed to defend the brick-wall entrance to the pub to protect those inside and contain the fighting, so it doesn't spread to the muggle world. Moody is there also."

"Good idea," Remus said, and then, the two Order members fell silent as the battle got more viscous and they needed to focus on the Death Eaters and spells flying in their direction. After throwing himself to the side to avoid a sickly green curse coming in his direction, Remus looked around for Buffy, but the Slayer was nowhere to be seen. However, since he could see a large group of vampires further up the street, he had a pretty good idea where she was.

* * *

Buffy had lost herself to the fight, relishing in staking every vampire that dared approach her – and those who didn't, as well. During the course of the battle, she had slowly but surely moved upwards, to the chaotic centre of the Alley. Frank and Alice were there already: they must have headed there the moment they all arrived from the manor.

"Glad to be out of your costume, Frank?" Buffy yelled while thrusting her stake into the heart of a vampire. She felt like she finally was making a difference: though it would have been better for the light side if so many vampires had never joined Voldemort, now Buffy could be of actual use on the battlefield, by doing what she'd been called to do - slay vampires.

"You have no idea," Frank exclaimed. "Alice is cruel."

His wife smirked. "Admit it – you secretly love it," while cursing a Death Eater trying to sneak up on Frank with her wand, she kneed another one in the groin when he tried to physically grab her. He dropped like a stone, moaning in pain.

"And that's how you knock out a _Dick!"_ Buffy cheered at the female Auror, even as Frank winced.

"You're brutal, Al," he muttered at his wife who only grinned proudly.

"Whatever gets the job done," she said. "Isn't Dumbledore arriving soon? He was the one who told us to come here..."

"I bet he's celebrating Halloween in his office with a sombrero and lemon candy," Buffy said and Frank snorted.

"Why a sombrero? I get the candy, but the _hat?"_

Buffy shrugged, while snapping a vampire's neck and wrenching of his head – she had accidentally dropped her stake soon after Alice kneed that Death Eater where the sun didn't shine - and God, she so wanted to do that to Malfoy! When her boss found out about their little...conflict, she'd been very close to getting fired: the only reason she hadn't was because a great many healers had been lost during the attack on the hospital. As it was, she had to work for half pay for six months - the other half would, of course, go to Lucius for _compensation... _Like he needed the money!

As the vampire turned to dust between her palms, Buffy bemoaned the fact that snapping necks weren't as effective as a stake to the heart – but it would have to do until she found something else that was sharp and made of wood. "It just came to me," Buffy answered Frank. "I can _totally _see him wearing one though!"

Alice and Frank sniggered. "Well, as funny as the image in my head is, I'd prefer if the Headmaster would arrive soon. I just have a bad feeling Voldemort is going to make an entrance."

Right after the Auror finished talking, a giant fireball suddenly apppeared a few feet away, as wide as the alley itself, coming flying through the air in their direction. Voldemort stood directly behind it, controlling its path. "DUCK!" Buffy yelled, throwing herself to the ground, at the last second. Buffy glared at Alice once the fireball had disappeared from sight. "You just had to say that, didn't you? Were you _trying _to jinx us?" Alice gave her a sheepish look, but Buffy didn't notice: she was too busy staring at her singed tips of her hair. "Oh, now it's ON!" Buffy yelled, her head snapping in the Dark Lord's direction, her eyes furious. "No one messes with my hair!"

"Umm...priorities, Buff, please!" Sirius yelled as he ran past, duelling a Death Eater.

"My hair is _important!"_ Buffy yelled back, but Sirius was already out of hearing range. Still angry, Buffy grabbed a sharp wooden shard from a building she found lying on the street, before jumping back to her feet. "You agree with me, right Alice? Woman to woman, and all that? Alice?" She blinked, looking for her friend, finally seeing her several feet away with Frank, duelling Voldemort. Again. "No one ever listens to my woes," Buffy muttered, staking a vampire as it tried to throw himself at her.

"You dare defy me yet_ again? _For a third time?_"_ Voldemort hissed at Frank and Alice in the meantime as the three exchanged lethal spells. "How are you still alive?_"_

"What can we say? We love to annoy you," Alice stated.

"Just _die_ already!" The Dark Lord exclaimed impatiently, throwing curse after curse at the two Aurors, some getting through, but a lot were blocked, or avoided by ducking.

"Sorry, but it's not going to happen," Frank said. "And temper-tantrums? Really, isn't that a bit childish?"

He shouldn't have said that. Voldemort's next spell came so fast Frank had no time to duck, or block, and hit him straight on, sending him backwards several feet, where he fell still. "FRANK!" Alice yelled, her head snapping around to stare at her husband in horror – the next second, she too was sent flying by the same spell that had hit Frank: the only difference was that he'd been hit in the chest, and she in the back.

Pain flared up through her entire body, much, much worse than what she knew the Cruciatus felt like, and Alice blacked out, long before she actually hit the ground.

"Frank! Alice!" Lily gasped, and moved to confront the Dark Lord, along with James, who hadn't left her side once during the battle. But there was no need: suddenly, Dumbledore was there, and immediately engaged the evil sorcerer in a magical duel, and the two Potters returned to fighting the Death Eaters.

Back in the middle of the alley, Buffy used all of her power to stake the vampires in her surroundings. Though she now had to search them out, rather than the other way around – they seemed to be avoiding her. Buffy smirked to herself. It seemed she was building a reputation. Suddenly, a heavy hand grasped her shoulder, and reflexively, Buffy spun out of his grip, burying her stake in the chest of the man who had dared to confront her.

But he didn't turn to dust.

Buffy watched in horror at her stake, still buried in the man's heart, blood dripping from the wound. Looking up, she saw terrified eyes, filled with pain, meeting her own through the Death Eater mask he was wearing. Buffy couldn't move, her hand still wrapped around the stake that was buried in the Death Eater's heart, blood dripping down on her hands. A few seconds passed, and then the man collapsed, dead, to the ground, and Buffy finally let go of the stake and backed away, feeling sick.

"Buffy!" Remus was there. "The battle's over. Voldemort has retreated with his followers. James and Lily have already left, and Frank and Alice too – Dumbledore fixed them up. They weren't as badly wounded as we feared: the curse Voldemort hit them with mostly caused pain, not actual injuries. If I were to venture a guess, they're planning to celebrate what remains of Halloween_ alone, _without any interfering guests. James had a certain _look _on his face, if you know what I mean." He grimaced, and then frowned and touched her back gently when he didn't get the laugh he was expecting. "Buffy?"

Buffy felt bile rise in her throat. "L-let's go home," she stammered, turning around, away from the awful sight.

"Sure..." Remus looked confused, but then, he must have caught sight of the dead Death Eater, for an understanding expression crossed his face. "Buffy..."

"Don't!" Buffy held up a hand to stop whatever platitude that was sure to come out of his mouth. "Let's just leave. Please."

"Alright," Remus nodded, wrapping his arms around the wide-eyed Slayer, her costume covered in ashes, dirt, dust, and blood, and apparated away.

* * *

"I'll make some hot chocolate, shall I?" Remus mumbled once he and Buffy appeared in their living room. Buffy didn't react, just stared blankly straight ahead.

Biting his lip, Remus went to retrieve a blanket instead, having a feeling he wouldn't be able to get Buffy to drink anything right now, even if it was chocolate. He hurriedly grabbed a thick blanket from their closet, and returned to the living room, leading Buffy over to the sofa. The Slayer sat down in a daze, barely noticing Remus wrap the blanket around her shoulders.

"What happened?" Remus asked after a long amount of silence.

"I need to get out of these clothes," Buffy said, sounding numb, ignoring, or perhaps not really hearing, Remus' question.

"Alright. I'll get you something to change into. Do you want a shower?" Remus asked.

Buffy nodded, standing up and walked in a daze to the bathroom. After awhile, Remus heard the water running and the lycanthrope clenched his fists, burying his nails in his thighs, not quite sure what to say or do for Buffy when she came out.

When the water had been running for over forty minutes, Remus stood up, beginning to worry, and he walked over to the bathroom door, knocking. "Buffy?"

No answer.

"Buffy!" He tried to open the door but found it locked, and he pushed the handle up and down insistently. Finally, he heard a weak sob. "I'm coming in," Remus said, waving his wand at the door handle, and the lock opened with a click.

When he entered the bathroom, he saw Buffy, sitting at the floor of the shower, scrubbing her skin raw with a scrubber brush. Silent tears were dripping down her cheeks, though it could also be part of the water raining down on her from the shower head above. Her costume had been thrown into the plastic dustbin by the sink. Not hesitating, Remus climbed into the shower with her, not bothering to remove his clothes, and took the brush from her. "You're shivering," he mumbled, rubbing her upper arms in comfort, immediately noticing the goosebumps and the places she had begun to bleed due to her forceful scrubbing.

"I-I killed him," Buffy muttered to herself. "I killed someone. Someone human! Oh, God!" She choked and Remus pulled her tighter against his chest, his wet costume plastered against her naked back. "I know I've done it before, but never as directly. Do you remember last year? After those first attacks on Plymouth and London? I came so close to losing myself then, and this time, someone actually died directly _at my hand! _What if I cross the line this time?" Remus' presence seemed to clear her head up a bit, making her able to at least speak about it.

"You won't," Remus said, sounding certain. "The fact that you're worried about it proves that. And if, against all odds, you begin to head in that direction again...well, I'm pretty sure I'd notice, and I wouldn't let you fall that far," he swore. "I promise, Buffy. You've always been there for me: it's time I pay you back."

Buffy swallowed heavily. "I can't believe I actually thought the Death Eaters deserved to die once: that I thought sinking to their level was okay because they're not hesitating to kill us."

"Well, you wised up." Remus sighed, fingering a few wet strands that hung down over Buffy's shoulder. "Look, killing is unavoidable in war. In the heat of battle...I think everyone in the Order has accidentally killed someone, and some have probably done it on purpose."

"On purpose," Buffy whispered. "By accident...does it matter? They end up just as dead either way..."

"It matters," Remus said firmly. "The intention matters. Yes, it's horrible, but it happens. And you didn't mean to kill that man, did you?"

Buffy shook her head. "He grabbed me...I thought he was a vampire...I just..._reacted."_

"Then you can't beat yourself up over it like this," Remus stated decidedly. "I'm not saying it wasn't awful – of course it was - but...like you said, you reacted. You can't help your reflexes, Buffy, and it probably saved your life."

"But I_ killed _him! And his eyes...they looked so_ young,_" Buffy exclaimed, sobbing. "I killed a man! If he even was a man...he might have been a _boy, _for all I know."

"And you_ care," _Remus said calmly, kissing her hair. "You care that you killed him. And that makes all the difference."

Buffy laughed humourlessly. "I thought I'd finally found a place in the war... When the vampires got involved, I was overjoyed inside, even though I knew it was bad, because I knew I could finally make an actual difference. But I only destroy things."

"No," Remus pursed his lips. "No, Buffy. You...you make the world _beautiful." _Buffy snorted. "It's true," Remus vowed. "You make it better, just by being here. And you make me want to be a better person."

"You're already a great person, Re," Buffy whispered tiredly.

"And so are you," Remus promised. "I only wish you could see yourself the way I see you. Take away your pain and guilt over this...make you smile."

Buffy took a deep breath. "I think...that may take awhile," she mumbled.

"Well, it won't stop me from trying," Remus said. "Want to get out of the shower? The water's getting cold."

Buffy nodded, standing up and turning off the water. Remus exited the cramped space and grabbed Buffy's bathrobe that hung on a knob on the wall, handing it to the shivering blonde.

"Re?" Buffy asked weakly as she tied the rope around her waist, her hair – Remus noted it looked slightly singed at the edges – dripping water onto the floor by her feet.

"Yes?"

"Thanks," Buffy mumbled. "For loving me. And for being here."

Remus smiled slightly. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

"Even if I just got you dripping wet?" Buffy questioned quietly.

Remus put an arm around her shoulder. "That's one of the best parts."

* * *

_**Published: **__09/03 -11_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Mara Jade is a character from the Star Wars expanded universe who made her first appearance in the book _Heir of the Empire,_ from 1991. As secretly geeky as Xander is, it wouldn't surprise me if Buffy heard about her from him at some point, and as such, dressing up as her is not totally unrealistic. She's also Luke Skywalker's future wife, which is why I had Remus dress up as him, and leave Leia and Han to Lily and James: while Lily and Mara Jade share red hair, James is more of a Han Solo to me than Remus.  
- _"I only pray to God it has nothing to do with turning into your costume... [...] But on a second thought, that may not be a bad thing this time since I'm _not_ dressed up as a woman who does nothing but faint in the face of danger."_ Buffy refers to her experience in the BTVS episode 2x6: Halloween, in which everyone turned into their costumes. Unfortunately enough for Buffy, she was dressed up as a 18th century noble woman...  
- In the BTVS Halloween episode 4x4: Fear, Itself, Giles dressed up with a sombrero hat, which was why I had Buffy imagine Dumbledore in one here.  
- Buffy staking someone human in the belief he is a vampire is something that happened to Faith in BTVS season 3, which led to her descent into darkness. Buffy, however, is a very different character and as such, will handle it differently. And it will give Remus a chance to be Buffy's support-pillar, rather than the other way around, for once.


	28. Kelly

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**11 November**

"I'm so happy you're here!" Belinda exclaimed, hugging Mandy and Sirius excitedly after the wedding ceremony for her and Lucan was over and all the guests were gathered in the large ballroom at the Greengrass estate. "And I'm really glad you brought your friends!" She beamed at the marauders, Lily and Buffy. "Even if I don't know you very well, at least Lucan and I will have people who aren't stuck-up to talk to. I am _so _sorry I couldn't make you a bridesmaid, Mandy, but my parents have been so supportive of me and Lucan and I didn't dare oppose them in case they changed their minds. Of course, if they had, me and Lucan would just have eloped or something, but I want my family to be a part of my life and - "

"Belinda, breathe," Lucan reminded her, grinning fondly at his bride.

"Oh, sorry," Belinda smiled sheepishly. "I'm just so excited! I can barely believe we are married now!"

"Neither can we," a silky voice said, and Belinda swung around in her elaborate gown, her face darkening as she caught sight of Lucius Malfoy and his wife. Unfortunately, they were part of those who had been invited, since they were members of the pureblood elite. "I never thought I'd be here to see the day when the Greengrass name sank so low as to not only associate with those of a lesser breed, but also take them into their family."

"Well, no one is forcing you to look," Lucan glared, and Lucius eyes flashed. Narcissa put a restraining hand at his arm.

"Please, darling. This is a wedding-reception. Let's be amiable, for once. Sirius, cousin, I noticed Walburga is not in attendance – I hope she is well."

"I have no idea how my mother is, Cissy," Sirius said icily. "We don't keep in touch, as I'm sure you're well aware. How is Bella doing?"

"Bellatrix?" Narcissa let a well-groomed eyebrow rise. "I'm afraid I don't associate with my sister anymore."

Sirius snorted. "Are you sure you're not confusing Bella with Andromeda?"

Narcissa's eyes noticeably darkened at the sound of her other sister's name. "Yes. It is...unfortunate that both my siblings have chosen to surround themselves with people who are not good for them." She was, of course, hinting at Bella's association with the Dark Lord, and Andromeda's relationship with muggleborn Ted Tonks, the two having run away and eloped.

"And I'm sure you, on the other hand, absolutely _hate_ Voldemort and what he stands for," Sirius said sarcastically, ignoring the way the two Malfoys flinched.

"Indeed," Lucius said stiffly. Then, he caught sight of Buffy. "What are _you _doing here?" He hissed at the Slayer.

Buffy glared at the aristocrat. She still wasn't completely okay with what had happened at the attack in Diagon Alley. Remus was helping her work through her guilt and she was getting better. But she had been acting rather meek around her friends lately, something they had noticed. But they also saw she was trying, and as such, didn't mention it.

However, just because she wasn't quite her usual self, didn't mean she didn't have the will or strength to muster up a verbal battle with the pureblood ass who had tried to get her fired. "I'm a friend of a friend of the bride and groom," she said sweetly. "How is your nose, by the way?"

"It is fine, thank you," Lucius said stiffly, wishing he could curse the annoying blonde...but like Narcissa had said, they were at a party, and he couldn't let it be shown he was anything but loyal to the side of light while in public. "I hope you didn't get into too much trouble with your boss?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Buffy said, desperately wanting to punch him again, but managing to restrain herself – barely.

"Well, shall we go enjoy the rest of the reception, dear?" Narcissa asked Lucius. "There are quite a lot of people here who are worthy of our attention." The marauders and the bride and groom clearly weren't, if her snooty expression was anything to go by.

"You are quite right, as usual, my dear," Lucius said, and the two Malfoys walked away, arm in arm.

"Oh, I hope someone spills something on them," Lily muttered and James burst out laughing.

* * *

**22 November**

"For me?" Mandy accepted the letter the long-distance owl held in its beak. "Thanks." The owl took off, and Mandy sank down in a chair by the kitchen table, her heart thumping wildly: she had a very good idea of who the letter was from – her sister, Kelly.

God, she hadn't seen her for so long! She usually spent every summer with her, but she'd spent the summer after her sixth year with Sirius and the marauders, and the winter holidays with Buffy. Then, she had graduated – Kelly hadn't been able to make it to the ceremony, and directly afterwards, Mandy had moved in with Sirius and became involved with the Order and soon after, Gringotts.

Mandy sighed as she opened the letter. She wasn't only a terrible friend to Lucan, it seemed, but also a terrible sister.

_Hello, dear sister of mine!_

_As usual, I begin this letter with a 'how are you?' But for once, I won't add an 'I hope you are well,' because if you are, why haven't you contacted me in a _whole year?_ You better have a very good excuse! I understand you are busy, but a letter every now and then wouldn't go amiss! Especially since I don't have your _normal_ address: as a so-called _muggle,_ I can't easily access the ways you magical people reach each other. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to find an owl that could contact you?_

_I have been so supportive of you, Mandy, by allowing you stay in England so you could go to your magical school when I moved to America, considering mother and father weren't much use for anything. The least you could do is let me know how you're doing!_

_I have decided, in light of this behaviour, that I am travelling to England to see how you live with my own eyes, since I am not so sure I can trust you to take care of yourself: expect me on your birthday on December first – I will land at Heathrow Airport at 19:00 and if you're not there to pick me up, well, I will be _pissed! _You might have graduated, but you clearly have much to learn in terms of responsibilities! _

_I am not saying this or doing this because I want to ruin your life, or be mean, but because I care about you and worry. I see so little of you, and you don't tell much about your life in the magical circles you are a part of, and for the past two years, there have been only two letters - _two! _And both due to obligations, such as exchanging Christmas gifts and letting me know of your graduation. That is _unacceptable.

_It really bothers me that we aren't close anymore. Considering our parents, I would have thought you'd want to hold on to our relationship. Let's hope I am not wrong._

_Love,  
__your sister Kelly_

Mandy slowly lowered the letter, feeling extremely guilty - and annoyed - at the letter's scolding tone. And also, panicked! Kelly couldn't come here – they were at war, for Merlin's sake, and if she visited, she would be in danger. There was also no way Kelly wouldn't find out about the state of the Wizarding World, and when she did, she would doubtlessly demand that Mandy moved to America to live with her. But she couldn't write Kelly and tell her not to come either.

"This is _not _good," Mandy mumbled, beating herself up over her own laziness. If only she had picked up a pen and parchment, or better yet, a phone, this could all have been avoided.

"What isn't?" Sirius asked, walking inside while biting into an apple.

"My sister, Kelly," Mandy muttered. "She's coming to visit."

Sirius blinked. "Oh."

"Oh?" Mandy asked. "That's all you can say? Sirius, this is a _disaster!"_

"Why?" Sirius looked honestly surprised. "She's your sister, isn't she? Why is her coming here bad?"

Mandy glared. "We're at war, Sirius, in case you've forgotten. I don't want her to be in danger. And...well..."

"Well, what?" Sirius questioned.

"I haven't told her. About anything, really. Not about you, or my friends, other than Lucan, and the last time I mentioned him was over three years ago, and I_ definitely_ haven't mentioned the war. If she knew...she would _freak,_ Sirius."

"That could be a problem," Sirius stated, scratching his head. "Not me and your friends – that's easily fixed: once she meets us, she'll love us. Especially me." Mandy rolled her eyes. Turning twenty a couple of weeks ago certainly hadn't reduced Sirius' ego. "As for the war, we'll just have to keep her out of the loop."

"How?" Mandy demanded. "She wants to see the Wizarding World, Sirius!"

"Tell her she can't," Sirius explained. "She's a muggle – she won't be able to see it anyway, unless you get special permission from the Ministry to let her do so temporarily, and that takes ages. Just show her around muggle England, and let's cross our fingers there aren't any attacks, and if there are, blame them on gas leaks or something."

"Kelly isn't stupid!" Mandy snapped. "Gas leaks?"

Sirius shrugged. "It's worth a try."

Mandy sighed. "Fine. But we'll have to cancel our _Daily Prophet_ subscription until she leaves. And make sure no one talks about anything connected to the war while in her presence."

"Easily done. I'll cancel the subscription tomorrow, and you contact our friends?"

Mandy nodded, feeling somewhat relieved, but still nervous. She really wanted Kelly's visit to occur without any trouble...but perhaps she shouldn't hope for too much.

* * *

**24 November**

Dorcas shivered in her dark robes as she and Snape approached the Dark Lord's stronghold. Or one of them, anyway. It was protected under something called the Fidelius Charm – a very complex warding spell in which you hid the location of either people or places in one person, who was the only one who could divulge the secret. Dorcas wouldn't be able to tell Dumbledore of the location even if she wanted to. Since the so-called Secret Keeper was Voldemort himself, Dorcas had read the location on a paper with his handwriting on, given to her by Snape, after which it had burnt to ashes.

"How did you convince the Dark Lord to meet with me?" Dorcas asked, her teeth clattering from the cold air.

Snape smirked. "I appealed to his ego," he said. "All I needed to do was mention you were a part of Dumbledore's Order, and that he had much to gain by snagging you from underneath his nose. The Dark Lord is quite arrogant in the aspect that he would do anything to get one over the Headmaster. His need for a good spy took care of the rest. He already has one, but whoever it is apparently leaves a lot to be desired."

Dorcas froze in her steps. "You-Know-Who has a spy in the Order?" She asked incredulously.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."

Dorcas swallowed heavily. That was not good. Suddenly, she realised how much depended on this mission: she couldn't fail – she had to figure out who the traitor was. "And I suppose you don't know who it is?"

"No," Snape said shortly. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. I agreed to take you to the Dark Lord and not expose your true colours to him – that's _all."_

"Right," Dorcas muttered. They had entered the building now. It was completely dark, the only light coming from torches on the walls casting a weak light on their surroundings. "How come it took so long for you to convince him to meet me? It's been a month."

Snape snorted. "It only took one meeting, but if you want to survive, Dorcas, realise this: the Dark Lord is not at his Death Eaters beck and call – _we_ are at _his._ _We_ don't just approach _him _– _he_ summons _us,_ when _he_ feels like it, not when_ we _want him to. Now shut up. And show proper respect if you want to keep that pretty head of yours."

They stood in front of two heavy doors, guarded by another Death Eater: _'Wilkes,'_ Dorcas thought, recognising him from Hogwarts.

"Ah, Snape." Wilkes looked Dorcas up and down and the Order-member forced herself not to shudder. "This is her?"

"Yes. Is he ready to see us?"

"Not you," Wilkes said, and began to open the door. "Only her." Snape nodded sharply, stepping back a few steps, even as Dorcas threw him a badly concealed look of panic. She was supposed to meet the Dark Lord alone? Of course, she had expected that to happen sooner or later, but this first time, she had imagined Snape would be with her. As unpleasant as the man was to deal with, he was better than no one!

Gulping, she slipped into the dark throne room, jumping when the door slammed shut behind her, leaving her in darkness. But then, slowly, a light flickered to life further inside the room. "Come closer," a strong, hissing voice commanded, and on shaky legs, Dorcas stepped forward.

As she walked closer to the Dark Lord, she saw that the rapidly brightening light came from illuminated balls of magic, floating behind his throne, in a display clearly made to impress and intimidate. "My Lord," Dorcas whispered, kneeling and bowing her head.

"Severus tells me you want to join me," Voldemort said slowly. "Why is that? What appeal holds the darkness to a...bright young woman as yourself?"

"I am a former Ravenclaw, my Lord," Dorcas said, without looking up. "I believe that you can help bring the world into a better future of knowledge and innovation."

"And yet, you joined Dumbledore." The name was spat out.

"That was a mistake, my Lord," Dorcas said. "He's not...what I thought he would be. He has a vision, true, but it's an idealistic one, with no chance of success. He seems to lack realism. The Order and the light are losing the war, but he pretends everything is fine." Her legs were beginning to cramp from kneeling, but she ploughed on: "But I don't, my Lord. I see he is wrong, and I see you hold the solution to put an end to the carnage."

"Interesting," the Dark Lord muttered. "If...you truly mean this...and if you truly wish to join me because you believe in my cause, then...I'm sure you won't mind proving it."

"Anything, my Lord," Dorcas vowed.

"You may stand," Voldemort intoned and Dorcas rose to her feet. "Avery, Rosier." Her head snapped to her right, only now noticing the two Death Eaters in the room, cast in shadow. "Bring in the prisoner."

The Death Eaters bowed and walked into a side-room to the large chamber. Dorcas tensed as she heard a struggle, and shouting... That voice sounded familiar. A couple of minutes passed by, the sounds of struggle diminishing, and then, the two Death Eaters returned. They were carrying a weak-looking, bloodied form between them, throwing the body in front of the Dark Lord's feet.

"What is this?" Voldemort asked silkily.

"She wouldn't stop struggling, my Lord," one of the Death Eaters said, bowing. "We apologise, but we had to make her stop, somehow."

Voldemort threw them a dismissive gesture. "No matter. She will be dead soon enough. Meadowes, if you please."

Dorcas looked down at the badly abused female, whose head had snapped up when she heard Dorcas' name. The Order-member felt sick when she recognised her: this was the flying-instructor and Quidditch referee at Hogwarts, Madam Smith, and Dorcas knew her very well from her days at school.

Dorcas had been a member of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and even though they shared a love for the sport, they also shared a love for fashion. That had been discovered when Dorcas had been assigned to Smith for detention. Dorcas had come up to her office several times after that, just to talk. "Dorcas..." Madam Smith whispered weakly. "W-what are you doing here? Did they get you too?"

"Well?" The Dark Lord asked, bored. "What are you waiting for? Kill her."

Madam Smith's eyes widened in horror, her expression one of utter betrayal as she stared at Dorcas. "Why?" She asked weakly.

Dorcas held her wand high, inwardly praying for forgiveness as she pointed it at the Flying Instructor. _"Avada Kedavra!" _She snapped out, using the large amounts of hate and contempt she felt for Voldemort to fuel the spell. The green light struck the woman in the chest, and she fell still, eyes wide and glassy.

Someone was clapping hands, and Dorcas looked up in a daze, meeting the eyes of the Dark Lord, who slowly stopped his applause. "Bravo," he said. "Bravo, indeed, Meadowes..."

* * *

Dorcas stumbled out of the throne-room shakily, being met by Snape. To Dorcas relief, he was alone, Wilkes nowhere in sight.

"Since you're still alive, I imagine the meeting went well?" Snape asked monotonously, and Dorcas clutched her left forearm where the Dark Mark now burned.

"Yes," she said through gritted teeth.

"I have a room here that I stay in sometimes," Snape said after a moment of silence. "You can borrow the bathroom if you want to clean up." He sounded uncomfortable.

Dorcas looked at him, surprised at his kindness. "Thanks," she mumbled.

They walked there in silence. The building seemed completely devoid of people, other than the Death Eaters she had already met, something Dorcas was grateful for: she didn't think she would be able to stand attention of any kind right now.

Once they reached Snape's room, the Death Eater closed and locked the door behind them. "You're not cut out to be a Death Eater," he said bluntly, and Dorcas glared, some of her inner fire returning.

"Yes, well, I am one now," she snapped. "How did the Dark Lord get their hands on Smith anyway? And why didn't you warn me?"

"Smith?" Snape asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Madam Smith, the flying instructor at Hogwarts," Dorcas said impatiently. "I didn't even know she was missing..."

"I have no idea how she came to be the Dark Lord's prisoner," Snape answered. "But I imagine they must have snagged her while in Hogsmeade. It is unlikely they got to her from inside Hogwarts. You had to kill her, I assume?"

"Yes," Dorcas muttered. "We were...close, I guess." Seeing the flying instructor's horror-struck look in her mind's eye, she quickly changed the subject: "What did _you_ have to do to prove yourself?"

"Nothing," Snape asked. "My...fellow Slytherins had been working on me behind the scenes, so to speak, throughout all my time at Hogwarts. By the time I stood in front of the Dark Lord, he was already quite certain of my loyalties, motives, and what I wanted."

"Lily," Dorcas spoke, feeling certain she was right, and Snape smirked.

"Among other things."

Dorcas lips curled in disgust. "That's sick."

"I'm not pretending otherwise," Snape said calmly. "And about the favour you owe me... I want you to tell me about her. Everything you can find out." He didn't need to say who 'she' was – it was quite obvious.

Dorcas blinked. "That's it?"

"That's it," Snape repeated, inclining his head.

"Lily is a friend of mine," Dorcas said. "What makes you sure I'll report her every coming and going to you?"

Snape's eyes darkened dangerously, and he leaned forwards over the red-head, who suddenly felt quite afraid. He could be very imposing if he wanted to, it seemed. "Because it is what I asked," he spat. "That's the favour I want, for helping you in your little scheme. If it is not to your liking, I will go to the Dark Lord right now and tell him the truth about you. I'd be very surprised if you made it out of here alive afterwards."

Dorcas gulped. "Fine. I'll do it. But you do know you're obsessed with her, right?" She added shakily. Snape was still towering over her, his face uncomfortably close. The man wasn't _that _bad looking, Dorcas thought, despite the crooked nose. It was his manners – or lack thereof – that put you off. Well, that, and his greasy hair. And his breath left a lot to be desired.

"I am aware," Snape said coldly, glancing down at her lips. And then, before Dorcas could react, he leaned down even further, putting an end to the distance between them as their lips crashed in a brutal kiss.

Shocked, it took awhile for Dorcas to regain her bearings, but finally, she managed to pull away, her lips swollen and skin flushed, her dark red hair mussed. "I'm not her."

Snape only looked at her. "I know," he said. "But you'll do."_ 'As a substitute' _was left unsaid. And then, his lips were on hers again, and this time Dorcas didn't push him away.

* * *

**1 December**

Mandy stood nervously in the airport terminal, waiting for her sister to arrive. Tapping her right foot impatiently against the floor, she checked her watch.

"Mandy!" Mandy's head snapped up from her wrist and her lips stretched up into a welcoming smile. Kelly was walking towards her, fighting her way through the line of people that had arrived with the same plane she had.

"Kelly!" The two sisters embraced.

"Happy birthday!" Kelly greeted as they moved away from each other.

"Thanks. How was your trip?" Mandy asked as the two made their way to the place where they could pick up Kelly's bags.

"Dreadful," Kelly said. "I sat beside a chatterbox, and the man in front of me leaned his seat down way too much, so I barely had any place for my feet. And there were also screaming babies and a couple of passengers threw up."

Mandy laughed. "Sounds lovely."

"So, tell me – how have you been?" Kelly asked. "Or rather, _where_ have you been and _what _have you been doing that keeps you so busy you can't even bother to write a single letter?" The brunette raised a questioning eyebrow, and Mandy winced.

"I don't really have an excuse. I'm sorry, but time has just been running away from me, I guess. I've had so much to do lately..."

"Like what?" Kelly asked.

"Well, work," Mandy said, knowing she couldn't mention the Order – that would lead to Kelly finding out about the war.

"Yeah?" the two sisters had reached the area where they could pick up Kelly's bags, which they found with no trouble, and then they were on their way to the exit. "What are you working as?"

"I'm training to become a Curse-Breaker," Mandy said proudly.

Kelly threw her a look of utter confusion. "A what?" She asked.

"A Curse-Breaker," Mandy repeated.

"And that means...what, exactly?" Kelly wondered, a frown between her eyebrows.

"Pretty much what it sounds like," Mandy said. "Curse-Breakers deal with...well, breaking dangerous curses and other spells, including hexes, jinxes and wards, on objects. Mostly, they tend to work in really old tombs where there is a lot of treasure to be discovered."

"And this can be done in Britain?" Kelly asked sceptically.

"Well, the training can," Mandy said. "There isn't that much actual work here though. The best place for both training and work is in Egypt, among all the pyramids."

Kelly raised an eyebrow. "Egypt, huh? If I may ask, why haven't you moved there, if the training is better?"

"Well, Britain is my home, and I've made some friends here that I'm not ready to leave yet," Mandy said evasively.

"Is it dangerous? And does it pay well?" Kelly asked.

"Yes, to both questions," Mandy said, amused. "The Goblins are quite generous in that area."

"Goblins?" Kelly exclaimed loudly, earning herself some weird looks from the muggles around them.

"Shush," Mandy admonished. "And yes. They're the best at the art."

"And where can you find...Goblins?" Kelly asked, sounding uncomfortable. They were now out on the street.

"Well, my training takes place at Gringotts – that's the Wizarding Bank – which is run by them. There is a special section in the lower levels of the building, cut off from the rest of the bank and its visitors, where we do our training."

"Your world sounds so strange," Kelly muttered, shaking her head. "Perhaps I should have insisted on you telling me more about it..."

"Oh, there's really not much to tell," Mandy laughed nervously. "In here." She grabbed Kelly's arm and pulled her into an empty, rather dark, side street, ignoring her sister's protests.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to apparate us home," Mandy said. "It will go much quicker than normal ways of transports..."

"And what does apparate mean?" Kelly asked, sounding rather annoyed.

"It's...well, a form of teleportation, I suppose," Mandy said. "You move from one place to another, in very little time."

Kelly looked uncertain. "Are you sure it's..._safe?"_ She asked in trepidation.

"I haven't splinched anyone yet!" Mandy said cheerily, wrapping her arms around her sister.

"What does spli - " Kelly's voice was cut off as Mandy apparated, and less than a second later, they appeared right outside hers and Sirius' apartment. Kelly immediately turned green. "I think I'm going to be sick..."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad!" Mandy said, unlocking and opening the door. "I hope you don't mind sleeping on the sofa. We only have one bedroom. I could transfigure you a bed from something else though, if you want."

"No, the sofa will be fine," Kelly said weakly, sitting down on the piece of furniture in question. "And..._we?_ Who else lives here?"

"Oh, my boyfriend," Mandy said absently. "He's at a friend's house right now – he promised he'd be home before we arrived, but punctuality isn't one of his strengths."

"Since when do you have a boyfriend?" Kelly asked, feeling more and more cut off from her sister's life than ever. "Is it that Lucas guy you've mentioned?"

"Lucan," Mandy corrected. "And God no. He's my best friend, nothing else. He actually got married about a week ago. My boyfriend's name is Sirius."

"Seriously?" Kelly asked and Mandy chuckled.

"Seriously. Sirius loves to make jokes about it too. The serious-Sirius thing, I mean. I think you'll get along brilliantly."

"If you say so," Kelly said, though she sounded doubtful. "How long have you been together? It must be...well, rather_ serious_ between you, if you share an apartment."

"Oh, two years or so I think, on and off," Mandy said.

"_On and off?" _Kelly asked and Mandy inwardly winced at the judgemental tone in her sister's voice. Perhaps she shouldn't have mentioned that part... "Are you sure this guy is right for you?"

"Yes," Mandy said firmly. "We have gone through some rough patches, but we've worked through them. The trouble mostly came from the fact that Sirius is a year older, so once he graduated we had some difficulties with maintaining a long-distance relationship since I was still attending school. That's obviously not a problem now."

"Hmm," was all Kelly said to that, and Mandy rolled her eyes.

"Have you heard from dad lately?" She asked, changing the subject, and Kelly snorted.

"Are you kidding me? Of course I haven't! And if he did try to contact me, I'd tell him where to stick it."

Mandy laughed, but was interrupted by a loud 'pop' as Sirius apparated into the middle of the room. Kelly let out a frightened scream.

"Oh, hi!" Sirius said, grinning widely, his hair wild and his face covered with oil-smudges. "You must be Mandy's sister, Callie! I meant to be here when you arrived, but I was working on my motorbike with James and lost track of time!"

"It's_ Kelly," _Kelly corrected, once she'd collected herself from the shock of seeing him appear out of thin air, sounding rather annoyed. Behind her back, Mandy was shaking her head in despair. Way to make a good first impression... "And it's quite alright. I'm guessing James is a friend of yours?"

"Yeah," Sirius nodded. "Mandy's too, actually."

"And you have a motorbike?" You could clearly hear the disapproval in Kelly's voice...well, unless you happened to be named Sirius and was completely oblivious, of course.

"Yeah!" Sirius exclaimed happily. "It's really neat, and it can even fly!"

"_Fly?" _Kelly repeated in disbelief, and Mandy groaned, wishing Sirius would just shut up before he dug himself into an even deeper hole. But apparently, that was not to be.

"Yes!" Sirius beamed. "And really fast, too! The landing's still a little bumpy, but I'm working on that. By the way," he turned to Mandy. "James said we can celebrate your birthday at his manor tonight, if you're up for it. Oh, and you're welcome too, of course," he said, throwing Kelly a charming grin, though Mandy's sister did not look impressed.

"How thoughtful of you," she said dryly.

"Why the manor?" Mandy asked. "I know it's the largest, but I thought Buffy was planning to throw my party at the cottage, since we spent your birthday at James'."

"Yes, well, Buffy throwing a party also involves Buffy's cooking, something we want to avoid at all costs unless you want food-poisoning as a birthday gift," Sirius said pointedly.

Mandy winced. "Oh, no thank you. A party at the manor sounds great. How did you manage to convince Buffy to let Lily and James do it instead?"

"Oh, I didn't. I wouldn't even dare try." He smirked. "We let Remus get that honour."

Mandy sniggered. Kelly was looking between the two in confusion, barely keeping up with the fast-paced conversation. Did Mandy have any place for her in her life anymore?

* * *

_**Published: **01__/04 -11_

* * *

**A/N:** I am sorry about the delay in updates for those who expected this chapter on March 23 - for some reason I only got an error message when I tried to edit my stories, so I couldn't upload any new chapters until today!


	29. Turquoise

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

"Happy birthday, Mandy!" Lily greeted as Kelly and Sirius entered Potter manor along with the girl in question. Kelly looked rather pale from the experience of passing through the complex wards that had been cast around the building by James' father while he was still alive. "You must be Mandy's sister, Kelly. It's really nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Are you...Buffy?" Kelly asked, remembering Sirius and Mandy talking about someone named that in their conversation earlier.

"Lily," Lily corrected. "Buffy and Remus aren't here yet. Anyway, I should get back to the kitchen and help the house-elves. If they'll let me," she added ruefully. "Please, make yourself comfortable in the living room."

"House-elves?" Kelly asked in confusion as Lily left, rather overwhelmed by the manor's sheer size and clearly expensive interior design, though it was done very modestly.

"Oh, they're sort of servants," Sirius said. "My family – or well, former, I guess, since I got informally disowned - has one too – Kreacher, horrible little thing."

"Disowned?" Kelly asked dubiously, her already rather low opinion of Sirius sinking even further.

"Yes," Sirius nodded, sounding rather happy it. "Oi, James!" He waved at James who was walking down the stairs, carrying a large present.

"Padfoot! Mandy! And Mandy's sister!" James beamed at them, his face barely visible behind the giant gift. "You're early."

"Yes," Mandy said, butting into the conversation before Sirius could say anything else damaging to his reputation. "We figured we'd show Kelly around the manor a bit."

"We did?" Sirius asked, confused, and Mandy inwardly slapped herself on the forehead.

"Yes," she said firmly. The truth was she didn't quite know what to say to her sister, and the things coming out of Sirius' mouth hadn't done him any favours. Mandy hoped that by having more people around, things would get less uncomfortable. Hopefully, Lily's influence would keep Kelly from getting an even worse impression of the Wizarding World and her boyfriend... Though, from the red-head's blunt mentioning of house-elves, she wasn't holding out too much hope anymore...

Sirius shrugged. "Alright. I'll take your word for it."

James had led them all into the living room, setting down the gift on a large table in a corner. "Do you want to open your gift now?"

"I might as well," Mandy said, walking over to the gift. "It's very large."

James smirked. "It's very special."

Mandy opened the present, expecting to find something big – instead, she only found lots and lots of paper that she was forced to dig through, only to realise that, other than the paper, the box was completely empty. "Very funny, James."

James and Sirius sniggered as Lily stepped inside. "I told you it would be mean," the red-head said, carrying two presents. "This is your actual gifts from James and I," she added.

"Thanks," Mandy said, throwing a mock-glare in James' direction.

"Oh, admit it," James said. "You thought it was hilarious."

Mandy's lips twitched. "Alright, it was," she gave in, accepting the real gifts from Lily's hands. Opening the one from Lily, she found a very rare book on curse-breaking that Mandy hadn't thought she'd ever get hold off. "Oh, thank you!" She exclaimed, hugging her friend.

"Nerd," Sirius said teasingly, a loving expression on his face. Mandy threw him a wide grin, before opening James' real gift: a see-through cube of some kind.

"What's this?"

"It's a memory cube," James said. "It has place for six memories that you can store in it and view at any time. It's only copies though – everything about them also remains in your real head, and you can't remove them once you enter them. You also can't dive into them like with a pensive: you watch them like you watch a movie."

"This is brilliant!" Mandy threw her arms around James. "Thanks! And it totally made up for tricking me!" Glancing at Kelly, she noticed her sister seemed intrigued by this second gift, but also slightly weirded out by it.

"Hello!" Remus voice was suddenly heard coming from the direction of the entrance hall. "Is anyone home?"

"Oh, Remus and Buffy are here!" Lily said happily. "Mandy, you should greet them – it's your birthday."

"Alright," Mandy said chuckling, going to meet her other two friends.

"By the way, is Peter coming?" Lily asked, once she was gone.

"No," James said. "He was going to, but then, he cancelled – apparently his girlfriend wants to introduce him to her parents tonight."

"Wow. He and Claire must really be getting serious – and no comment, Sirius," Lily added. "Do you know if he has told her he's a wizard yet?"

"No idea, but if not, he'll have to soon. And he really should introduce us to her," James said.

* * *

"Tell me, Pettigrew, about the girl Sirius Black is currently dating," Voldemort asked Peter silkily.

"Her name is Mandy Walker, my Lord," Peter said, trembling. "She is a muggleborn, a former Ravenclaw and she and Sirius live together in an apartment in London."

Voldemort inwardly rolled his eyes. He already knew all that. "I am aware, Pettigrew. I was hoping you could give me something _useful."_

"Umm...she's training to be a Curse-Breaker," Peter offered hesitantly.

"How interesting," Voldemort stated, and seeing Peter's relieved look, he sent a silent _Crucio_ at the snivelling man, who immediately writhed and screamed in pain. "NOT! I want to know about her personality! About her relationship with Black! Are they close?"

"Y-yes," Peter stammered out and the Dark Lord threw him a disgusted look. Hopefully, Meadowes would prove to be a more effective spy than Pettigrew, but he couldn't count on her yet: she might have passed her first test, but he had seen the hesitation in her eyes. Meadowes couldn't be completely trusted. Time would tell if she was sincere in her service to him.

"Leave," he said, and Pettigrew hastily left, without bowing. The Dark Lord barely restrained himself from throwing another _Crucio _at his back.

Voldemort leaned back in his throne. He hadn't thought of Sirius Black in quite awhile, other than in passing. He was the perfect tool to use in order to spread distrust in the Order – distrust directed at the wrong person. But his spies at the Ministry and Pettigrew reported that lately, he and Lupin seemed to be close friends yet again, so obviously, his plan had only worked for a short while. That would not do.

The Dark Lord frowned. The sons of Black were a disappointment all around. He had had such high hopes for Regulus, and then, he had dared to betray him! It was probably his brother's influence: it wasn't until after his mission to try and recruit Sirius that Regulus had done it. His plan had backfired spectacularly. He had counted on Sirius' loyalty to his brother to turn him, but rather than Regulus succeeding in turning Sirius, Sirius must have turned Regulus instead. Thin lips curled.

Family loyalty. It had now been proven to be utterly useless, right up there with_ love._

Black had to be punished for his part in Regulus' betrayal, of course, and now, he was quite certain he'd found a way: during the attack at St. Mungo's, he had seen Black protect a brunette girl with his own body when he had thrown a killing curse at her. A kiss soon afterwards had proved it was someone he cared about. Finding out about the Slayer had distracted him, and it was only a couple of days ago he had remembered this scene, and the possibilities that had come to mind while seeing it.

Voldemort smirked to himself. Some digging had revealed the woman was named Mandy Walker: Sirius Black's girlfriend, and also an Order-member. The perfect way to punish Black and deal Dumbledore a blow at the same time.

Still, he needed to be certain it had not just been reflexes that had caused Black to throw himself over her during the battle at St. Mungo's. He needed to be certain that Black would do anything – _anything _– for her, and that was why he had summoned Pettigrew, to try and find out how deep Black's_ love_ for Walker ran, if it was of any use to try and exploit it.

Perhaps he could do what Regulus had failed to do: turn Black, by holding his girlfriend over his head... Oh, the variables were so many! Suddenly, he remembered a promise he'd made to Snape at his initiation: that he could have Black if he didn't switch sides. Oh, he had had no intention of keeping that promise at the time – nor had he any intention of keeping other promises he'd given his followers at various instances. But promises were a powerful tool, and now, he could use Snape's hate for Black to see his current plan through.

"Travers."

One of his most loyal Death Eaters stepped out of the shadows and into his line of sight. He was one of the few who actually knew Pettigrew was his spy in Dumbledore's ranks. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Have you _acquired_ the cartographer's family as I asked?"

"Of course, my Lord. They are now residing..._comfortably_ in the dungeons."

"Excellent." Voldemort's lips curled. Perhaps he could now make some progress on his..._other _project. "Have Bellatrix torture his wife and child in front of him – that should make him more compliant regarding my requests." He hadn't told any of his Death Eaters why they had been ordered to kidnap the historian from the Ministry, or what he wanted him for, nor had he told them anything about the book. The mistake he'd done in letting Regulus know would not be repeated. "Don't let Bella go overboard though. I need them alive and relatively well until the man has done what I asked. And get Snape for me, will you?"

"As you wish, my Lord."

Travers bowed deeply – so nice with proper respect, Voldemort mused – and then left, presumably to do what he had asked.

* * *

Mandy and Sirius stood outside the manor, breathing in the fresh, albeit cold, air, the both having temporarily left the party after Sirius said he wanted to give her his present alone.

"I wasn't quite sure what to get you," Sirius admitted, fingering the small present in his pocket. "But I think I found something appropriate, at last."

Mandy smiled at him. "I'm sure whatever it is, I'll love it," she said.

Sirius smiled weakly, taking up the present from his pocket, giving it to her. "Here."

Removing the paper, Mandy saw a smooth box covered in velvet. Curiously, she opened it, and gasped when she saw the contents, picking up the gift carefully. "Sirius...it's _beautiful!"_

"I know you don't wear much jewellery," Sirius said apologetically. "But I saw this, and thought of you."

The gift was a gorgeous necklace, a turquoise gemstone pendant hanging from a chain in white-gold. The turquoise colour was a bright, sky blue, and even seemed to glow slightly in the dark. "As I'm sure you know, turquoise is the birthstone of December, and it's also believed to impact wisdom, which I thought fit you perfectly."

"Thank you," Mandy said, kissing Sirius deeply. "I'll treasure it always. Will you help me put it on?"

Sirius nodded, and closed the clasp around her neck, Mandy marvelling of the feel of it against her skin. "It...feels warm. I don't know how to explain it, but I feel..._loved."_

Sirius flushed slightly. "The person who sold it to me showed me how to infuse an emotion into the stone. I chose to impact it with my love for you, so...that might explain it. That way, you'll always carry a bit of me with you when you wear it..." He looked incredibly embarrassed, especially when Mandy only stared at him with wide eyes. "It's ridiculous, isn't it?" He asked. "I-I can remove it, if you don't like it..."

Mandy finally raised her hand to the necklace, incredibly touched. "No," she exclaimed softly, pulling Sirius down for another kiss. "Don't do that. Don't you dare to even think about it. This...this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever given me. I love it."

Sirius still looked awkward, but he also looked happier now, that he had Mandy's approval. "Good. I was afraid you wouldn't. Umm...I'm going to head inside. Are you coming?"

"I'll stay out here for a little while," Mandy said, still fingering the necklace.

Sirius nodded. "Alright." He quickly left, and Mandy giggled softly. Sirius never quite knew how to act when emotions ran high. Unless they were of the lustful kind.

Mandy stood, staring out at the large grounds of the manor for several more minutes, just enjoying the stillness: it was such a large contrast to the chaos of the war, and she relished in the calm.

"Mandy?"

Mandy turned around when she heard her sister's voice.

"Hey, Kelly," she said, smiling at her sister. "How do you like my friends?"

Kelly shrugged. "They're nice enough, I suppose... I just don't have very much in common with them. And I don't get even half of the things they speak about.

Mandy chuckled. "I know how it is. When I first became part of the Wizarding World, there were so many things that were so strange to me... But now, I can't imagine not being a part of it." She sighed dreamily.

Kelly noticed her necklace then. "Did Sirius give you that?"

Mandy grinned. "Yes. It was so sweet..."

"Typical, you mean," Kelly corrected. "I mean, jewellery? Doesn't the man have any imagination? You don't even _like_ jewellery!"

"I may not wear it that often, but I do like it," Mandy corrected with a frown. "And it's nothing_ typical _about it, Kelly. He usually gets me other things, but something they all have in common is that there are a lot of thought behind whatever gifts he get!"

"How much thought can there be behind buying a necklace?" Kelly asked in disbelief.

Mandy's eyes narrowed at her sister. "You wouldn't understand," she finally said.

"Then explain it to me!" Kelly exclaimed. "What happened, Mandy? We used to be so close, and now it's like I don't know you at all anymore!"

"Things change," Mandy said. "I have my life here, while you have yours in America. It's only logical we'd grow apart sooner or later."

"That doesn't make it okay!" Kelly said. "Try to put yourself in my shoes! I came here to spend time with you, to catch up on your life, but you don't seem interested in telling me about it! You take me to meet your friends, and then leave me alone with them while you traipse off with a boyfriend I didn't even know you had!"

"It's not like that," Mandy mumbled.

"Then what's it like? I'm here to spend time with _you,_ not anyone else," Kelly said impatiently. "Sure, it's great to meet your friends, but this is not quite what I had in mind for this visit."

"What did you expect?" Mandy snapped, suddenly angry. "I wasn't prepared! You barely gave me any forewarning, and this visit couldn't have come at a worse time!"

"Oh, so now you need to _prepare _yourself before seeing your sister?" Kelly snapped back. "Really nice, Mandy, how thoughtful! Well, next time, I'll make sure to book you a year in advance!"

"Oh, don't be like that!" Mandy said. "Stop being so dramatic - "

" - I might be dramatic, but if I am, it's because it seems to be the only way to get your attention," Kelly said coldly. "And what's so bad about being here now, huh? Do you have some huge secret you need to hide from me? Personally, I thought December was perfect for a visit, since it includes your birthday, Christmas _and _New Years, and I wanted to celebrate with you."

Mandy sighed. "Let's just stop fighting, please?" She begged. "It's my birthday."

"I know it is," Kelly said. "And I'm sorry, but I hate the fact that you seem to be cutting me out of your life, whether it's intentional or not."

"I'm not trying to cut you out of my life," Mandy said. "I just have a lot of things going on right now..."

"Then tell me," Kelly begged. "And if it's to do with magic or something, just explain it. I'm not stupid. We used to able to tell each other everything."

"Things are different now," Mandy mumbled, looking away, and Kelly stared at her sadly.

"Yeah...I'm getting that."

* * *

"You wanted to see me, my Lord?" Snape asked.

"Yes. Do you remember a promise I made you, Severus, when you first joined me?"

Snape's black eyes flared in excitement. "You promised me Lily Evans."

"Indeed. You can't have her yet, I'm afraid." The Dark Lord inwardly smirked at the anger and impatience he saw in Snape's eyes. "But if things work out the way I expect them to, you will soon have the honour of breaking, destroying, and eventually killing Sirius Black. If that is still your wish."

Snape's nostrils flared. "It is, my Lord."

"You are aware Black has a girlfriend, correct?"

"Yes," Snape said.

"And he..._loves _her?"

"He is utterly devoted to her, my Lord," Snape answered. "Even in school, he was extremely over-protective. If I were to guess, he is even more so now."

"Perfect," Voldemort breathed out. "During our next attack, which should be during Christmas – disgusting holiday, that – I want you to make sure Mandy Walker is taken captive and brought to me – alive. That will be the first step of my – _our _- plan."

Snape bowed. "I will have it done, my Lord."

"I expect nothing less."

* * *

**9 December**

"Hi, Alice!" Lily greeted chirpily as her and James stepped inside Longbottom manor, the place where the Order meeting was to be held.

"Hi, Lily! Hi, James!" Alice was practically beaming. "Guess what? Frank and I are having a baby!"

Lily gasped in delight. "Really? Oh, I'm so happy for you!"

"Congratulations," James said, a smile on his face.

"Thank you!" Alice grinned widely. "Frank is beside himself with happiness, though I think his mother is even more so. I have never seen Augusta so excited."

Lily laughed, holding back her suspicions of that she might be pregnant as well. Until she was absolutely certain, she didn't want anyone to know, not even James. Or make that _definitely _not James. "Well, she is getting on in years. It only makes sense she's looking forward to grandchildren."

Alice snorted. "True. Anyway, don't tell anyone else yet – we want the break the news ourselves eventually. I wasn't even going to tell you two, but I just couldn't help myself!"

Lily laughed.

"Are we the last ones here?" James asked, and Alice shook her head, leading them to the living room where the Order meetings were always held when they had them at the Longbottom manor.

"No. Dumbledore hasn't arrived yet. And not Mandy and Sirius either."

"Typical, for all three of them, I'd say," Lily said, grinning. As they entered the gathering room, Alice left to join Frank, Dorcas, Benjy Fenwick and Edgar Bones by the fire. "Hi, Buffy! Remus!" Lily immediately caught sight of her two friends, involved in a conversation with Eliza and Caradoc.

"Hi," the four greeted the Potters, Buffy's smile a little strained.

Lily inwardly frowned. She wasn't quite sure why Buffy had been rather morose lately, though she suspected something must have happened at the battle in Diagon Alley. Still, she knew better than to mention it to the Slayer: if she did, the blonde was sure to try to pretend even harder that she was fine – something that, to Lily at least, only made it clear she was not feeling like her normal self.

It had been rather obvious something was wrong with her during the party for Sirius' birthday a few weeks ago: Buffy's behaviour had been quite meek, lacking her usual spark, and Remus hadn't left her side once. She had been more 'in character' at Mandy's friends' wedding, especially when she spoke to Lucius Malfoy.

Then, at Mandy's birthday party, Buffy had seemed to be more genuinely herself most of the time, but there were moments when she had suddenly, and without warning, fallen silent, looking sad and troubled. Only Remus seemed to be able to pull her out of it during those moments.

"How are you all doing?" Lily said, glancing at Buffy.

"We're fine," Buffy smiled. It didn't escape Lily's notice that Remus took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"I'm glad to hear it. Have you all bought Christmas presents yet?" James asked.

Remus shook his head. "No."

Buffy abruptly stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom," she said, leaving the room. Lily exchanged looks with her husband, Remus and Eliza.

"Is something the matter with her?" Eliza asked quietly. "She is not acting like herself."

Even the normally grouchy Caradoc looked worried about the Slayer, though he did his best to hide it – and failed. "Perhaps it's her time of the month," he muttered, earning himself an elbow in the side from Eliza.

"I'm going after her," Remus said, standing up and leaving as well. A few seconds afterwards, Mandy and Sirius entered the room.

"Hey, guys."

"Late as usual," Lily noted.

"This time, it wasn't Sirius' fault," Mandy said.

"Oi!" Sirius protested.

"It was my sister," Mandy continued, ignoring her boyfriend. "Kelly wanted to know where we were going and was making it difficult to sneak away. I said something came up at work, but I don't think she bought it."

"Perhaps because it's Sunday and both of us left even though we don't have the same occupation," Sirius mumbled and James chuckled.

"I can't believe she's insisting on staying for the entirety of December," Mandy moaned. "I really didn't expect her to, especially not after our little row we had on my birthday."

"Well, you've got to admire her tenacity," Lily said, lips twitching. "Something you both share, I suppose."

"I am not even half as stubborn as Kelly!" Mandy protested, earning herself disbelieving looks from her friends.

"Are you joking, woman?" Caradoc exclaimed. "I may not know you all that well, but even I can tell that you're more pigheaded than the most obstinate lid on a jar."

Laughter filled the room.

* * *

"Buffy?" Buffy looked towards the closed bathroom door when she heard Remus' voice. "Can I come in?"

"I guess," Buffy muttered and Remus stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"How are you doing?" He asked, sitting down on the floor, his back leaning against the wall, watching Buffy, who had settled down at the edge of the giant tub in the bathroom.

Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. It just...hits me sometimes, out of nowhere. What happened during the battle..." Her breath hitched. "I hate feeling like this, Re," she muttered.

"It will get better," Remus promised softly. "You're already a lot better than before."

"Am I?" Buffy asked, laughing in disbelief. "I see _him _wherever I go! I pretend that everything is fine in front of others, and sometimes, they seem to believe it. Sometimes, even I believe it. But his eyes are following me, Re, and it makes me want to cut my own out, even though I know that won't help. That it's all in my mind."

Remus stood, settling down beside Buffy, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, even as the Slayer let out a shuddering breath. "I feel so weak. And disgusted with myself. Even when I sleep...I see it. My hand, thrusting my stake into that man's heart...killing him. His blood is on my hands. And it just won't wash out."

Remus squeezed her shoulder. "You're stronger than this, Buffy. You've always been my rock, whenever I've had doubts about myself and whether or not I'm a good person, even if I'm a werewolf. This may not be the same exactly, but I'm going to tell you what you told me: you're not a monster, Buffy. You don't even come close."

"I feel like one," Buffy whispered.

"What happened to that man was awful and horrible for you, and I wish you didn't have to go through it. But you are. And you're not a monster for feeling guilty," Remus said firmly. "Quite the opposite. But we were in a battle where people die. And the man was a Death Eater. I'm not saying he deserved death, and I'm definitely not telling you that killing him probably saved lots of other people. We can't know that for sure. And the way it happened...I understand why you feel awful about it. But all you can do is to accept it happened and try to move on."

"How?"

"Because you believe in me, when I don't believe in myself," Remus answered. "Because I can feel your despair and your sorrow in the back of my mind like it's my own, and know how you feel. You're an amazing person and you will get past it. I'm sure of it."

Buffy took a deep breath. "Right," she mumbled.

"Are you ready to go back?" Remus asked. "I think the meeting might have started..."

Buffy smiled at him. "Yeah. Just...give me time?" She begged. "You have been great so far, and I think you must have the patience of a Saint or something."

Remus snorted. "There's nothing Saint-like about it," he said. "I love you, and that's reason enough. I'll give you however long you need."

Buffy's smile widened slightly, a little spark returning to her eyes. "Good."

They left the bathroom, and as they re-entered the living room, they found that, like Remus had suspected, Dumbledore had arrived while they were gone and had already begun the meeting:

"...I am sorry to say a member of my staff at Hogwarts, Madam Smith, has been killed. I wouldn't have found this out if not for one of my newer connections," Dumbledore said. "We suspect she must have been snagged during a visit to Hogsmeade. Unfortunately, no one noticed she was missing until days later."

"How come it took so long to notice?" Edgar asked, leaning forwards.

"The staff isn't required to attend dinner," Dumbledore said. "So no one thought it strange when she didn't appear for meals. She also didn't have any portraits in her room who could have reported her absence, and Madam Smith doesn't keep to a regular schedule. Her position on the staff only includes teaching the first-years how to fly and refereeing the Quidditch games. Therefore, she sometimes leaves the castle for longer periods of time. If her disappearance had been noticed sooner, perhaps something could have been done to rescue her," the Headmaster concluded, for once looking his age.

Remus and Buffy noted Dorcas was looking uncharacteristically pale and tired, her face drawn, and she was wearing long sleeves to cover her arms, something she didn't do often. The two exchanged looks, both having the same thought: the new connection Dumbledore meant must have been Dorcas. It seemed she must have been the one to agree to the spy position in Voldemort's camp after Remus turned it down.

"In other news, the family of the cartographer who was taken during the attack of the Ministry has gone missing," Dumbledore continued. "It makes sense to presume they are now also in Voldemort's hands. It would also be safe to assume that the reason they were taken was to use them as leverage against him."

"So until now, at least, the historian can't have been too much help with deciphering the book, or the maps, or whatever You-Know-Who wanted him for," Benjy said with a frown. "He must have taken the man's family to..._encourage_ him to make more of an effort."

"Indeed." Dumbledore sighed. "Perhaps something should have been done to protect them after he was taken. Someone at the Ministry should have thought of the possibilities of this happening."

"I mentioned it to Crouch," Moody said gruffly. "But he didn't seem to think it was necessary. He seemed to be of the impression that the cartographer's disappearance was not worth taking notice of."

"Idiot," Frank muttered.

"And what about Minister Tool?" Dorcas asked, speaking up for the first time. "What does he think?"

"Not a whole lot, other than try to keep whatever credibility and good reputation he still has left," Frank answered. "Which isn't much. The confidence in him has slipped even further since the attacks on St. Mungo's and Diagon Alley. There is no way he is going to keep his office for much longer."

"Perhaps that's a good thing," Caradoc noted "Isn't Edgar one of the candidates the press is shouting for?" He glanced at Edgar.

"I am not particularly eager to become Minister of Magic," Edgar said with a slight frown. "Though for the good of the Order, I would do my best to get the position if I am nominated."

"Unfortunately, Crouch is a possible candidate as well," Alice pointed out and there were groans all around. "He can make things very difficult for us."

"Let's hope it does not come to that," Sirius said with a shudder.

* * *

**25 December**

"You're looking secretive," James told Lily over Christmas dinner. This year, the two Potters had opted for a quiet Christmas, just the two of them. "Are you feeling better?"

Lily had been sick at various instances since November began, and finally, James had forced her to go see a Healer.

"Much better," Lily said. She hadn't wanted to see a Healer, mostly because the red-head had already pretty certain she knew what was 'wrong' with her, but had finally gone anyway to shut James up. The Healer had only confirmed what she already knew – she was pregnant. However, knowing for certain was very different from suspecting, and Lily had been trying to work up the nerve to tell James for days now, not knowing how. They hadn't been trying, for obvious reasons: after all, they were in a war, and to have a baby in the middle of the carnage they were a part of was complete madness.

Still, now that she was pregnant for sure, Lily wanted this baby very badly. That didn't stop her from worrying though. So much could go wrong, and she wasn't even sure she and James were ready for the responsibility of caring for an infant: they were still very young themselves, and hadn't been married very long either.

"Did the Healer you visited say what was wrong?" James asked, taking a bite of his turkey.

"Yes...nothing. Exactly."

James raised an eyebrow. "Exactly? Now I'm intrigued. What does that mean?"

"I'm pregnant," Lily finally blurted out after a couple of seconds of silence.

James, who had taken a sip of his root beer, spat the liquid out all across the table. "You're what?" He croaked out, coughing wildly and reaching blindly for a napkin.

"Pregnant," Lily repeated, twirling a piece of her red hair around her fingers nervously. "We're going to be parents, James."

James stared at her with wide eyes. "And this is not a Christmas joke at my expense that Sirius put you up to?" He stammered out, and Lily shook her head.

"No. It's not a joke."

James' grasped the table tightly. "Wow. I mean..._wow._ If I wasn't already sitting..." Lily smiled weakly. "Pregnant," James whispered, looking up to meet Lily's green eyes. "We're going to be parents?" He asked, as if he was trying to make sure, yet again, that Lily wasn't just jerking his chain.

"Yes. At the end of July," Lily said.

James stood up from his chair, walking over to Lily's side of the table and pulling her out of hers, embracing her tightly. "We're having a baby," James breathed out, reverence in his voice. "I'm going to be a daddy..."

Lily laughed, then. "Yes, you are."

"This...this is wonderful, Lils," he breathed out, hazel eyes shining with joy. "The best Christmas gift you could have given me."

Lily beamed at him.

"I realise it won't be easy," James continued on. "But we can make it work, can't we?"

"Of course we can," Lily said, feeling more certain everything would be alright now that James knew and was supportive of it. Her worries still remained, but they weren't as pronounced in her head as they had been only a few minutes ago. James was making them fade into the background.

"Merlin, Lils...a baby." James kissed her deeply, but the two Potters were interrupted when a patronus in the form of a Phoenix flew in through the wall, coming to a stop beside them, and Dumbledore's voice flowed out:

"_Voldemort and his Death Eaters are attacking Hogsmeade. Every Order member needed to help. Come quickly."_

Lily and James stared at each other with wide eyes. "Voldemort must really hold a grudge against Santa," James finally muttered. "I'll go help. You stay here and keep our dinner warm - "

" - Excuse me," Lily said icily, "I'll do nothing of the sort. I'm coming with you, and that's final."

James groaned. "Lily, please. I can't fight if I have to worry about you. You're pregnant now: you can't keep taking risks - "

" - Pregnant, not an invalid," Lily interrupted. "Do you really think Alice is going to stay at home when she and Frank are summoned? No. She's not. And I'm not going to either. And I don't need you to take care of me. I can take care of myself, thank you very much!" And with that, the red-head spun around and disapparated with a 'crack.'

James swore, and followed.

* * *

_**Published: **__06/04 -11_


	30. Blood

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

Sirius, Mandy and Kelly were opening their Christmas gifts when Dumbledore's Phoenix patronus arrived, floating in through the apartment wall. Kelly stared in shock at the animal, and when the Headmaster's voice came from it, her jaw dropped:

"_Voldemort and his Death Eaters are attacking Hogsmeade. Every Order member needed to help. Come quickly."_

The message itself didn't seem to register until Mandy and Sirius jumped to their feet. "We have to go," Mandy said while pulling on her shoes hurriedly. "I'll explain later..."

"No!" Kelly exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "I've had enough of this nonsense! No more secrets! You're going to tell me what is going on _right now!"_

"There's no time," Sirius muttered.

"_Then make time!" _Kelly demanded, narrowing her eyes at him angrily. "You can take off if you want but my sister is not going _anywhere_ until she tells me what I want to know." She grabbed Mandy's shoulder so she couldn't do a disappearing act through aboration or appitation or whatever it was called. "Who is this Voldymort person? And what's the Order?"

Mandy sighed, realising that despite her best efforts, the truth was out, and there was no hiding it. "It's _Voldemort._ I suppose you can call him and his Death Eaters terrorists who are trying to take over the Wizarding World, to change it to their liking. That includes getting rid of those they think are of a lesser standing, such as non-magical people, or people born to them, like you and me. Sirius and I are members of the Order of the Phoenix, a group of resistance fighters against Voldemort and what he stands for. We're at war, Kelly, and that's why you being here is not a good thing."

Kelly gawked at her. "At war? You're at _war_ and you didn't tell me?"

Mandy just looked at her tiredly. "Could you please let me go?"

Sirius was looking rather impatient. "We have to leave _now _if we're going to be of any help," he said.

"I don't care!" Kelly snapped at him. "I don't understand why Mandy has to go. Why is she involved in this? And if you love her, why are you letting her?" She glared at Sirius accusingly and Sirius flinched back, as if struck.

"Sirius isn't _letting_ me do anything," Mandy snapped, trying to be patient. "I'm involved because I chose to be."

"Why?" Kelly asked desperately. "Why put yourself in danger like that? Why don't you just let the magical police deal with it?"

"We are," Sirius spoke. "The Aurors are doing everything they can, but it's not enough."

"I still don't see why you are a part of this," Kelly looked at Mandy pleadingly. "You're just nineteen years old!"

"My age doesn't matter!" Mandy exclaimed. "I'm involved with the Order because I want to help, Kelly. I'm sorry if you can't understand that, but it's a fact you're going to have to deal with." Kelly's grip on her arm slackened in disbelief, and Mandy took the opportunity to pull away from her sister. "We can talk more about this when Sirius and I get back, but we really have to go now." She disapparated with a 'crack.'

"I still don't understand why she's a part of this," Kelly told Sirius, tears appearing in her eyes. "What if something bad happens to her?"

Sirius gave her a grave look. "I promise to care of her. I'll keep her safe," he swore, and then, he too, disapparated. Kelly stared at the spot where he'd disappeared.

"You better," she muttered into the empty air, before sinking down in a heap on the floor, confused, saddened and terribly afraid for her sister.

* * *

"What took you so long, Pads?" James yelled at Sirius as he arrived, a few seconds after Mandy. "Kelly again?"

"Who else?" Sirius asked grimly, throwing himself into the battle, moving to defend the _Three Broomsticks._ Looking around for his girlfriend, he spotted Mandy fighting alongside Peter and Remus, Buffy a few feet away battling vampires. Certain Mandy was alright, with her back covered by their friends, Sirius focused on his own duelling. "Where is Dumbledore?"

"Still contacting Order-members, I'd imagine," Lily spoke. "But he'd be of better use here. At least Voldemort isn't here this time. It could be worse."

At that moment, the Dark Lord himself apparated into the alley, surrounded by ten more Death Eaters.

Sirius threw a wincing Lily a blank look. "It's worse," he deadpanned, quickly moving to block a spell sent from a cackling Death Eater that could be no other than Bellatrix.

"Hello again, cousin!" She screeched. "Want to dance?"

Sirius was immediately forced to use all of his power to battle the crazy witch, his focus zeroing in on her only. He couldn't get distracted if he wanted to stand a chance. "I'm more of singer," he retorted. _"DIFFINDO!"_

Bellatrix pouted as she ducked, the spell grazing her arm and drawing blood. "Now, that was not nice!"

And the duel was on for real.

* * *

Lily quickly threw herself to the ground to avoid a spell sent by Voldemort. "Lily!" James apparated to her side, defending her against the Dark Lord as she got to her feet. "Are you alright?"

Lily nodded, and then threw a large spell at Voldemort's feet: the place at which Voldemort stood erupted in a shower of rocks as the spell hit the road, and the Dark Lord was forced back a couple of steps. Once he recovered, he glared angrily at the two Potters.

"Why do you two insist on _getting in my way?"_ Voldemort hissed.

"Someone has to," James spat out, hazel eyes burning as he gripped his wand tightly, pointing it at the Dark Lord.

"You two and the Longbottoms...you're just as suicidal," the Dark Lord spoke as the three began to exchange spells yet again. "Death is too easy to grant you."

"Yeah?" James smirked. "That's why you have difficulties killing us? Because it's _too easy?_ It makes total sense now."

The Dark Lord's eyes flashed. "If I wanted you dead, you would be," he assured them through gritted teeth. "But you deserve the most painful torture _before _I send you on to the afterlife, since you insist on opposing me. Before I am done with you, you will _beg_ for death."

Lily snorted while blocking another spell. "I'm sorry for laughing, but your entire speech is just too cliché. Did you get it from a book or something? _'The beginner's guide to being a fearsome Dark Lord,'_ perhaps?"

Voldemort snarled, and it was probably lucky for Lily and James that Dumbledore appeared then, engaging him in battle, distracting him from the two Potters who immediately focused on fighting the Death Eaters around them.

* * *

As Buffy fought the vampires in the village – luckily they weren't as many as in Diagon Alley - she was mentally telling herself not to freak out, with mixed success. Whenever her stake hit the heart of a vampire, she saw the human she had killed in her mind's eye, and half expected the vampire she was fighting would turn out to be human as well.

Because of this, she hesitated slightly before driving the stake home, losing precious time and focus in her battle. Her movements didn't have their usual rhythm or grace, nor did her attacks have their usual strength and determination behind them. She wasn't using any puns and quips. Her heart wasn't in the fight, nor was her head.

That cost her.

Before Buffy could react, one of the vampires in the group she was fighting took the opportunity when she was distracted: a second when her stake was pointed at another vampire's heart without actually moving in to kill him, the vampire moved in: "Ah!" Buffy let out a loud scream of pain, accidentally dropping her stake as sharp fangs pierced her throat, blood flowing from the deep wound, down her shoulder, and into the vampire's eager mouth.

As the vampire slowly began to suck her dry, Buffy's survival instinct kicked in, and she did her best to fight him off, kicking and scratching, her hands and arms trying to push him away. But the other vampires held her down, making it virtually impossible, especially as she grew weaker with the blood loss.

* * *

Remus and Buffy usually did their best to block out the empathy they shared during battle as the other's emotion was a distraction that made it difficult to focus on the fight at hand. Today, however, Remus let his connection to Buffy remain somewhat open, since he was worried that what had happened in Diagon Alley would affect her negatively in this battle.

As the werewolf duelled side by side with Mandy and Peter, he tried not to let Buffy's clear feelings of hesitation impact his own abilities. So far, it had worked – he couldn't say he was fighting at his best level, but enough to manage. However, when his hearing caught Buffy's scream of pain, and it was accompanied by her sheer fear and panic in the back of his head, he faltered in his movements and he turned to look in the Slayer's direction.

Seeing a large crowd of vampires holding a struggling blonde down, as one of them was feeding on her, made him see red. "Buffy!" He yelled, abandoning the duel with the three masked Death Eaters he had been holding off with Peter and Mandy.

Snape's eyes flashed in triumph behind his mask as Lupin left, leaving only Mandy Walker and Peter Pettigrew to fight. He threw a quick nod towards Avery and Rosier – the other two masked Death Eaters and the companions he'd chosen for this particular mission - and they returned his nod subtly. Knowing they were prepared to act, Snape sent off several stunners at Pettigrew, who wasn't fast enough to avoid and block them, and fell to the ground, taken out of the fight. Snape sneered. _'Pathetic,'_ he thought.

In the meantime, Avery and Rosier ganged up on Mandy, increasing the force and speed of their spells, forcing the brunette to go on the defensive. Desperately, she looked around, trying to find someone to help her, but no one was close by: Remus was the closest, and he was fending off several vampires from an unconscious looking Buffy.

When Peter fell, the third Death Eater joined up with the other two, and it only took a few more seconds before Mandy was incapacitated, disarmed. The three Death Eaters grabbed her physically, their larger size allowing them to ignore her angry kicks and punches, and disapparated.

* * *

Voldemort felt his fury grow as he battled the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Glancing around the ruined village, he finally caught sight of something that made him feel extremely pleased: Pettigrew had been taken down - perhaps even on purpose – he would have to question the man later. If it had been intentional, he deserved some sort of recognition for taking his own initiative for once and simplifying Snape's mission, even if it was unknowingly. But then again, it was just as possible it _hadn't_ been on purpose: Pettigrew was pretty useless in a duel, after all. Three Death Eaters, presumably Snape and two others, had grabbed Walker, and then, they disapparated.

"Well, it's been fun, as usual, Dumbledore," Voldemort drawled. "But I have other appointments to keep." He disapparated, certain his followers would do the same once he was gone.

Leaving disaster in his wake.

* * *

"Mandy?" Sirius looked around the village, dust and ash flying through the air, making it difficult to see. "James!" He caught sight of his friend, looking bloodied down with large black smudges on his face. "Have you seen Mandy?"

James shook his head. "No. Have you seen Lily?" The Auror's voice sounded panicked. "We got separated after Dumbledore arrived..."

"James!" Lily's clear voice rang through the air and James' shoulders sagged in relief.

"Never mind," he told Sirius. "I'll tell you if I see Mandy," he added, hurrying off towards the direction of Lily's voice.

"Remus!" Sirius shouted, walking over to the werewolf who was leaning over Buffy's body. The Slayer's face was white as chalk, and she was lying still as death, blood pouring from a bite mark on her neck. Remus was checking her pulse, lips pursed in worry.

"She needs a Healer," Remus muttered to Sirius while ripping of a piece of his t-shirt, pressing it against the wound. "Buffy!" He yelled. "Talk to me!" He didn't get an answer, and Remus swore. "She needs a Healer," the werewolf repeated without looking up. "Are there any Healers here yet?"

"No idea," Sirius said. "Where is Mandy?"

"I-I don't know," Remus stammered out, eyes stuck to the unconscious Slayer. It had taken a long while to reach her, and the only reason he had succeeded was because Voldemort had left, and with him, his followers, including the vampires.

"How can you not know?" Sirius demanded to know, gripping Remus' shoulder harshly, forcefully turning the werewolf's attention back to him. "Last I saw, you were fighting beside her!"

"Well, I got a tad distracted!" Remus exclaimed, eyes wild as he gestured towards Buffy, shaking off Sirius' hand.

Sirius' eyes narrowed dangerously at the werewolf. "Mandy better be alright, Remus," he said through gritted teeth before stalking off, shouting Mandy's name: "Mandy!"

"Sirius!" Sirius turned around when he heard Eliza's voice.

"Eliza," Sirius greeted tersely as he approached her. "Have you seen Mandy? And is Wormtail alright?" The French girl was kneeling beside a dazed looking Peter, who was slowly sitting up.

"He was unconscious when I found him, but otherwise, he seems fine," Eliza answered.

"Is Mandy alright?" Peter asked Sirius, blinking as he looked around, confused. "She was right beside me when I got stunned..."

Sirius staggered back, his face rapidly paling. "MANDY!" He shouted loudly, looking around the village in utter desperation. _"MANDY!"_

"I'm sorry, Sirius." Sirius spun around as he heard Marlene's voice, and he turned to meet her eyes which were rapidly filling with tears. "Mandy's gone."

Sirius' eyes widened in disbelief. "What do you mean, _she's gone?" _He snapped out. _'Merlin, don't let her be dead, please...!'_

"I saw what happened," Marlene said, sniffing. "But I was too far away to do anything. When Peter got stunned, Mandy was overwhelmed by the Death Eaters they were fighting. They grabbed her and disapparated." Sirius stared at her stupidly, not wanting to comprehend what Marlene was saying. "They took her," Marlene clarified. "I don't know why, but they did. I'm really sorry."

As Marlene walked away, Sirius sank to his knees, looking at nothing, feeling overtaken by numbness.

How could this have happened?

* * *

_CRACK._

The three Death Eaters apparated into one of the Dark Lord's stronghold, a wildly kicking and punching Mandy held in their arms. "LET GO OF ME!" she screamed and to her relief, the Death Eaters let her go.

"She's a menace!" One of them muttered, grasping his arm where Mandy had bitten down with her teeth in her fury. "It's a wonder we didn't splinch ourselves, considering the way she was fighting us."

Mandy glared at him, before she tried to apparate away. The second Death Eater smirked. "There's no escaping from here," he said, sounding amused. "Only people with the Dark Mark can transport themselves in and out unescorted."

"There are other ways to escape than with magic," Mandy spat.

Two of the Death Eaters chuckled. "Good luck with that," they said.

"Enough," the third Death Eater spoke and pulled off his mask.

Mandy stared in surprise. _"Snape?" _She exclaimed in disbelief as she recognised her assailant.

"_Stupefy." _Snape pointed his wand at the brunette dispassionately and she fell, unconscious to the cold floor. "Take her to the dungeons," he ordered.

* * *

"HOW COULD YOU HAVE LET THIS HAPPEN?" Sirius yelled at Remus. The marauders had gathered at Hogwarts in the hospital wing while waiting for news on Buffy, who was being treated by Madam Pomfrey. The rest of the Order, including Dumbledore, was still in Hogsmeade to help with the clean-up and transport the rest of the injured to St. Mungo's.

"I didn't _let _anything happen," Remus said tiredly. "And keep your voice down. We're in a hospital wing."

"I don't bloody care," Sirius hissed dangerously, fists clenching. "If you hadn't been distracted - "

" - Buffy was in danger!" Remus exclaimed. "What would you like me to have done?"

"It's not like your presence helped her any!" Sirius snapped. "She's just as injured anyway, but if you had stayed with Mandy and Peter, perhaps she would be safe instead of with the Death Eaters, probably being TORTURED!" The last word was screamed out.

"Sirius, please!" Lily exclaimed. "Let's all calm down. This is not Remus' fault - "

" - THEN WHOSE FAULT IS IT?" Sirius screamed, looking rather mad, his eyes wild. "Am I supposed to blame Peter, who we all know isn't a very good fighter? Between him and Mandy, of course they were overwhelmed! We all know we can't count on him in a fight!" In the background, Peter flinched at the unintentional jab. "But if Remus had stayed with them, like he was supposed to, Peter wouldn't have been knocked unconscious, and Mandy would be okay," Sirius continued.

"You can't know that. Perhaps you should place the blame with the Death Eaters who took her," James said quietly. "Lily is right. This is not Remus' fault. I'm sorry for what happened, Padfoot, but we can't point fingers at each other. Remus couldn't have known what was going to happen. It's not like anyone here planned it."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked icily. "Can you really be sure of that James? I thought we could trust each other with our lives – with our friends' lives – apparently I was wrong."

Remus paled. "What are you saying, Padfoot?" He asked, swallowing.

"What does it sound like I'm saying, _Moony?" _Sirius asked, an eyebrow raised in question.

"You can't honestly believe I _intentionally_ let Mandy get taken?" Remus exclaimed, eyes wide.

"I don't _want_ to believe it," Sirius corrected. "But I thought I could count on you."

"And you can! We're _friends!" _Remus was staring at Sirius in utter disbelief, as did Lily. James, who had heard Sirius' suspicions before was only observing the scene tiredly, shoulders slumped. He wasn't surprised this confrontation was taking place, but he had hoped it never would. He hadn't believed Sirius to be right about Remus then, and he didn't now, but it was apparent Sirius was too upset to see reason. The only thing he could do was to let this play out...and hope things could be fixed afterwards.

"So I thought," Sirius said, jaw tense. "I've had my suspicions of you before, Remus, but I let them lie, for our friendship's sake. But now..." he shook his head. "This is one coincidence too many."

Remus was shaking his head. "I can't believe I'm hearing this. What do you want me to say? Deny your accusations?"

"That would be a start," Sirius said coldly.

"Fine," Remus said shortly, his temper rising with every second. "I'm not a Death Eater. Is that enough for you, or do I have to show my arms too? I can do that." He pulled up his sleeves, showing his bare arms for Sirius, devoid of a Dark Mark. "But wait," he laughed humourlessly. "Perhaps I should undress completely. The arms are such an _obvious _place to put Voldemort's mark. _Anyone _could think to check there." He ripped off his sweater, not caring about the buttons flying everywhere. Sirius didn't stop him, only watched him coldly.

"STOP IT!" Lily exploded once Remus began to unbutton his jeans. "This is ridiculous! No one here is a Death Eater!"

"Obviously, Sirius thinks so," Remus said, crossing his arms over his chest. "And I have a feeling that he will continue to, even if I were to stand here _naked._ After all, what's to say I have a mark at all? Since I'm supposedly a _secret _agent."

"I have my reasons for believing it," Sirius said coldly.

"Then by all means, share them!" Remus exclaimed. "At least give me a chance to defend myself. Or are they too embarrassingly_ stupid_ to say out loud?" Sirius was silent. "But I suppose it doesn't matter what I have to say," Remus continued bitterly. "You're already determined to think the worst of me. What about you, Lily? And you, James? Peter? Do you think I'm a spy as well?"

"No, Remus, we don't," James said, sighing. "And neither does Sirius, deep down. He's just upset - "

"DAMN RIGHT, I'M UPSET!" Sirius shouted and James flinched. "And don't tell me what to think! I know what I know, James, and don't try to convince me otherwise!"

"You're being unreasonable!" Lily exclaimed, pleading. "Think about it. The only reason Remus left Peter and Mandy was because Buffy got hurt. If I had been hurt, James would have done the same thing. If it had been Mandy, so would you. Does that make you a Death Eater?"

"You're missing my point, Lily," Sirius said through gritted teeth. This is not just about today - "

" - Isn't it?" Lily countered. "You said it yourself: you had suspicions before, but today was the last straw. Because it's Mandy. Mandy got taken and you need to blame someone. Remus makes the easiest target because he's here and available for your anger. We get that."

"You don't get anything," Sirius said, eyes darkening. "You're too blinded by your friendship - "

" - And you're too blinded by your love for Mandy," Lily said, refusing to back down. "If she was here, she would tell you how thick you're being herself. Remus is no more a spy than James and I. Or perhaps you don't trust us either. We've confronted Voldemort three times now, and lived. Isn't that suspicious? Perhaps we should _all _show our arms." She pulled up her sleeves as did James. "You too, Sirius," the red-head ordered. "After all, you're being a little too insistent that Remus is a Death Eater. How are we supposed to know you're not trying to cover your own arse?"

Silently, Sirius pulled up his sleeves. Just like his friends', they lacked a Dark Mark.

"So, now that we've all proved none of us are Death Eaters, at least not one who carries the Dark Mark, can we please start focusing on _why_ Mandy got taken and how we can get her back? We're not helping her by fighting amongst ourselves."

"I don't _need _your help," Sirius snapped out, pulling down his sleeves. "And I definitely don't want _his," _he jerked his head in Remus' direction and then left the hospital wing.

"I'm going to check on Buffy," Remus mumbled, summoning his ruined sweater from the floor with a silent flick of his wand, and then left, to join Buffy and Madam Pomfrey in the private side-room of the hospital wing.

Lily sighed, for a moment looking twice her age. "We're falling apart, James," the red-head whispered tiredly as her husband embraced her from behind, his head resting on top of hers. "And I don't know how to stop it."

"Neither do I, Lils," James answered. Neither do I."

Neither saw Peter, who had been sitting unnoticed in a corner of the room during the entire confrontation without pulling up his sleeves, slip out of the room.

* * *

"Remus!" Madam Pomfrey stood up from Buffy's bed. "What were you yelling about out there? I was just about to go out there and give you all a piece of my mind! And why are you only half dressed?"

Remus sighed, ignoring the matron's question. "Will she be alright, Poppy?" He asked, taking the place by Buffy's bed that Poppy had just abandoned, taking the Slayer's hand in his. She seemed so frail...

The medi-witch harrumphed. "She lost a lot of blood, but I've given her several blood replenishing potions and the wound is clotting nicely, without my aid. Yes, Remus, she will be fine."

"At least that's one good thing to come out of this mess," Remus muttered.

"If you don't mind me asking...what happened in Hogsmeade, Remus?" Poppy placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Remus swallowed. "Everything that shouldn't have," he whispered. "It all went wrong, Poppy. And Sirius thinks it's my fault. And what's worse is that he's right to blame me." He looked up to meet Poppy's concerned face. "I messed up. If I had stayed with Mandy and Peter... Sirius is right – it's not like I were of any help to Buffy. I couldn't reach her until the battle was over anyway." He sounded bitter. "I let myself get distracted by my feelings for her."

"That doesn't make you at fault, Remus. That makes you human," Poppy said gently.

"Then maybe I should try to be less human," Remus muttered.

"Don't..." Remus' and Poppy's attention snapped to the bed, and Buffy, who had spoken. "Don't talk like that," Buffy croaked out. "What happened?"

"Don't worry about that now," Remus said hurriedly. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. You're upset. I can feel it." Remus inwardly cursed and immediately blocked off his bond to Buffy. The Slayer frowned. "And now I'm even more certain something's wrong. What happened?"

Remus sighed. "It's Mandy...she got taken by Death Eaters."

"But she's alive, right?" Buffy asked weakly. "Then there's still a chance. Look...I'm not sure what makes you think that it's your fault - "

" - How long have you been awake?" Remus asked.

"Long enough," Buffy answered. "We'll get Mandy back. And if what happened to her is anyone's fault, it's mine."

"I'm going to leave you two alone," Poppy said, leaving the room, unnoticed by both Remus and Buffy, who were too involved in their conversation to pay any attention to their surroundings.

"How can it be your fault?" Remus asked in disbelief. "You got hurt."

"Exactly," Buffy smiled weakly. "And apparently that distracted you. I heard enough to know that. I haven't...been myself, since Diagon Alley. I knew that, but I went to fight in Hogsmeade anyway, because I wanted to prove to you that I was okay. To prove to myself that what happened in Diagon Alley doesn't have a hold on my anymore. But I wasn't ready. I was being stupid, and stubborn." She grimaced. "And that's why I got hurt. That's why you got distracted. And that's why Mandy got taken."

"You're not invincible," Remus said.

"I know that. But I wasn't at the top of my game. I wasn't focused on the fight. I hesitated. I wasn't being the Slayer. I was acting like a scared little girl who wanted to be anywhere but there. The vampires didn't beat me because they were better. They beat me because I wasn't trying my best. Because I was afraid. Until I get that under control...I shouldn't be in another battle. I shouldn't have been in this one. It's as simple as that."

"It's never simple," Remus mumbled, climbing up into Buffy's bed. The Slayer immediately moved aside to make more place for him.

"I suppose not," Buffy agreed, then frowned. "Why are you half-naked?" She quirked an eyebrow at Remus' bare chest. "Not that I mind..."

Remus sighed. "That's a long, sad, _Sirius _story..."

* * *

Kelly jumped up from the sofa when she heard the door to the apartment open and then close. "Mandy?" She rushed out into the hall, confused and worried when she only saw Sirius. "Where is my sister?"

"You should probably sit down," Sirius muttered, pulling a hand through his hair.

Kelly's eyes narrowed. "I think I'd rather stand, thank you. Tell me where my sister is, right now, Black, or so help me..."

Sirius chuckled humourlessly. "That temper... Sometimes, you and Mandy are rather alike, you know."

"Of course I know! I practically raised her," Kelly snapped. "Now stop stalling and tell me what happened!"

"Things..." Sirius licked his lips. "Things didn't go according to plan."

"What does that mean?" Kelly demanded to know.

"Mandy..."

"Mandy _what?" _Kelly was trembling with anger and fear.

"The Death Eaters...Voldemort's followers...they...took her."

Kelly stumbled back. "Took her?" She repeated. "What do you mean, _took her?"_

Sirius swallowed. "Just what I said. They took her and left."

"Why?" Kelly's voice broke. "Why would they do that?"

"I don't know yet. But I'm going to find out. I'm going to get Mandy back, Kelly. I'm going to make it right, I promise," Sirius swore.

"You'll have to excuse me if I don't believe you," Kelly said coldly, even as her voice shook with suppressed tears. "You also promised you would keep my sister safe, and look at how that has turned out."

Sirius' shoulders slumped. "I know."

* * *

Voldemort stared dispassionately at the young woman who was sitting tied to a chair in a cell in his dungeons, still unconscious. "So...this is the girl," he whispered. "Mandy Walker."

"Yes, my Lord," Snape said. "If I may ask...now that you have her...what do you plan to do?"

"In a week or so, I will...send Black an..._incentive," _Voldemort said with a smirk. "After that, I expect him approach us, to try and bargain for Walker's safety, if not before. I will give both Walker and Black a chance to join me - "

" - My Lord!" Snape protested. "You promised - "

" - I know what I promised," the Dark Lord snapped, red eyes glaring at Snape who flinched. "Don't forget your place."

"I apologize," Snape mumbled, though inwardly he was seething. Voldemort had promised Black would die...had he lied?

"Like I said before you so rudely interrupted, I will give both Walker and Black a chance to join me. I expect neither of them to accept. For that, of course, they must be punished." He gave Snape a meaningful look.

Snape immediately lowered his head. "I am sorry for doubting your honesty, my Lord."

"As you should be. I promised Black's death would be yours. And it will be. Once he declines my very generous offer, you are free to kill him whenever you wish."

Snape's lips curled in satisfaction. "And what about Potter? And Lily Evans?" He refused to call her by her married name.

"They have defied me, Snape. I cannot let that go unpunished. You must understand that."

Snape swallowed. "Yes."

"James Potter will eventually die at my hand. It will be painful, humiliating and he will curse the day he dared to stand against me before I am done. As for his wife...she will go to you."

Snape looked at the Dark Lord in surprise.

"Yes...I still intend to keep my promise. Lily Potter will be yours. I imagine the death of her husband and the knowledge that she will forever be a slave to your wishes shall be punishment enough. Now, wake her up." Voldemort nodded in Mandy's direction, changing the subject.

"_Rennervate," _Snape intoned, pointing his wand at Mandy, who woke up with a gasp.

"Welcome back," Voldemort said, smirking at Mandy who was staring up at him in terror.

"Go to Hell," Mandy said shakily, wishing her voice would sound more confident.

Voldemort chuckled, quite amused by her daring. "Get Bella, would you, Snape?" He asked the Death Eater. "I am certain she would _love _the chance to get better acquainted with her cousin's little lover?"

Snape bowed and then left the room, soon returning with Bellatrix, who looked at Mandy in utter delight.

"Oooh!" She clapped her hands together. "Such a pretty gift! And just for me!" She looked up at the Dark Lord with adoration and Mandy shuddered.

"Now, don't get overexcited," Voldemort admonished her with a smirk. "We want her to last, after all." He left the room with Snape, the cell door slamming closed behind them.

Bellatrix turned crazed, glinting eyes to Mandy who gulped, staring up at Bellatrix in terror. She knew enough about Sirius' cousin's exploits to be afraid – deathly afraid. "Now, pretty..." she pulled out her wand, smiling widely. "This may hurt, just a little."

* * *

"I-I wish for an audience with the Dark Lord," Peter told Rosier and Avery, who were engaged in conversation, stepping up to them boldly.

"Good for you," Rosier said with a raised eyebrow.

"Now," Peter added when it seemed Rosier and Avery were about to return to their conversation.

"He is busy with our newest guest," Avery said. "Now, go."

Peter's eyes narrowed. "No. Why was Mandy Walker taken?"

Avery cocked his head. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Pettigrew, and you'll live longer," he advised.

"I want to know!" Peter insisted.

"Pettigrew..." a silky voice from behind him said, and Peter froze, slowly turning around to face the Dark Lord who had just arrived, coming from the stairs to the dungeons. "Getting bolder, I see."

"My Lord..." Peter gulped.

"I've been meaning to talk to you anyway. During the attack on Hogsmeade...did you let yourself get knocked out?"

"Y-yes, my Lord," Peter answered and that was the truth. He had been afraid his fellow Death Eaters might do him some real damage, since only a selected few knew he was truly on their side.

"Good work," Voldemort praised and Peter swelled up with pride. "Nice initiative...I like that. It made it easier to grab Walker."

"About her...why did you grab her? What use is she to you?"

"Wormtail, Wormtail..." Voldemort shook his head. "You should not ask so many questions."

"I am sorry, my Lord, I just want to know why."

"Let's just say she's a means to an end."

"Will you kill her?" Peter asked bluntly.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to?"

"No!" Peter exclaimed. "No," he repeated more calmly. "She's a friend. Well...kind of."

"Then I won't," the Dark Lord said, and Peter relaxed. "You are a good friend, Peter. I only wish they were better friends to you as well." He left, after patting Peter on the shoulder.

"Yes...me too," Peter muttered.

* * *

**31 December**

Sirius was sitting alone, in his apartment, watching the fireworks light up the sky through the window. It was only a few minutes left until New Years, but to be honest, he could care less. He could care less about anything. Anyone. Except Mandy.

Since Sirius had stormed out from the hospital wing after the attack on Hogsmeade, he hadn't been in contact with any of his friends. As for Mandy's sister... Kelly was still in England, but the day after Christmas, she had moved into a hotel, unwilling to stay in the apartment with just Sirius. Perhaps it was just as well: Sirius was certain they would have killed each other before long. And the Order...the only one he had contacted was Dumbledore.

He had asked the Headmaster what could be done regarding Mandy, and the answer he had gotten had been far from satisfying: nothing. Dumbledore – the Order – could do nothing – _would_ do nothing.

While they had an agent within the Death Eaters – an agent whose name was still secret to the Order at large – that person couldn't do anything without risking his or her position. Apparently, the spy was still very new and not in anyone's confidence.

Dumbledore had then went on to give Sirius' empty platitudes – that what had happened to Mandy was unfortunate, but that she had known what she was getting herself into when she joined the Order. That they couldn't risk everything just for her. The greater good, he had called it. And it wasn't like they knew where to look: all of the Dark Lord's strongholds were under something called the Fidelius charm.

Sirius clenched his fists. He couldn't lose her. And if Dumbledore and the Order were unwilling to help him...well, then he would just have to take matters into his own hands. Sirius swallowed deeply, trying to think. The Death Eaters must have taken Mandy for a reason. And one of the few reasons Sirius could think of was that they wanted something from him – their relationship wasn't exactly secret. That theoretically meant that Sirius was the only one who could convince Voldemort to release Mandy.

Decision made, Sirius walked over to the desk, posing a quill above an empty parchment. Slowly, he began to write: it wasn't a lot – what he needed to say could be summarized in only a few sentences. All in all, the letter ended up short, and to the point. All that was left to do was to send it, and then, he would have to wait for an answer and hope for the best. Sirius snorted to himself at the irony: he had never been very patient, and lately, he hadn't been feeling very hopeful either. And yet, hope, while fragile and wavering, was all he had left. It was the only thing keeping him from breaking down.

* * *

_I burned with conviction, once, that everything would turn out alright. Now, I am not so certain and all I want is for this carnage to end, to put a stop to the suspicious glances, the mistrust and the smell of death. The smallest glimmer of hope is hung onto like a lifeline that can be ripped away at any moment. I am afraid, terrified. Not for myself, but for everyone else. For Lily. How much will we be forced to sacrifice before this war is finally over? Can things ever go back to the way they were? Can the marauders? Can a broken friendship ever be completely repaired?_

_Right now, it seems impossible. Right now, everything does._

_- James Potter_

**To Be Continued**  
**in  
**_**Road of Sacrifice**_

* * *

**A Note From the Author**

So that's it – the second part of Roads Travelled completed, along with the first part of the first war. It had sort of a sad, cliffhanger ending which will have its resolution in the next part: Road of Sacrifice, to be published on the 30 June this year (mark it in your calendars, or put me on alert). I hope the long wait doesn't bother you too much. As I am graduating university this spring, I've decided to focus on writing my thesis and getting my degree and finishing school, rather than split my attention between my studies and fanfiction.

Like the title Road of Sacrifice witnesses, the story will not be any less dark than what Road of Carnage has been, but I hope it will not put you off reading it, and there will be light moments - for example, the birth of Harry! After all, for there to be light, there must be dark as well.

_Much love,  
__Ida (ladyvisionary)_

* * *

_**Published: **__20/04 -11_


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